Rumored In Love
by georgesgurl117
Summary: Hermione has never shied away from a confrontation with Rita Skeeter, and she's about to find out why she should have. But perhaps through all of the lies and the lines, she can find something truer than she ever thought possible.
1. The Revelation

**Disclaimer: ** They don't belong to me and never will, no matter what I say about them.

**A/N: ** It's been floating around in my head for a while, so I figure it's about time to get it out there. This story follows canon through part of OotP, but disregards the rest.

* * *

**Chapter 1: The Revelation**

The stars were beginning to twinkle over Diagon Alley as the last of the shops began to close. In a small third-story flat near Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, Rita Skeeter leaned back against a pile of swanky satin pillows. As she sipped wine from a crystal goblet, she glanced back down at the short letter that had arrived a few hours before.

_**Ms. Skeeter,**_

_**On behalf of Harry Potter, your writing skills are not requested at this time.**_

_**Sincerely,**_

_**Hermione Granger**_

A nasty glare came to her eyes as she crumpled up the parchment and lobbed it into the fire. As she watched the cheery flames eat away at the casual dismissal, Rita drummed her perfectly manicured nails against the arm rest of her purple settee. She had only wanted to write an expose on how the Boy-Who-Lived was handling the upcoming sixteenth anniversary of his parents' death now that he was of a majority. She had even sent a polite memo to entreaty an audience with the boy, offering him an expense-free dinner at a restaurant of his choosing during his next Hogsmeade visit.

"My writing skills are not requested," she muttered bitterly to the long-haired white cat that purred beside her. "Presumptuous little tart, isn't she?"

Rita took another slow sip of wine and then traced her silver tipped nails over her cherry-hued lips. She had no love for the demanding girl who thought she could be ordered around so easily. Sure, the bushy-haired badger had the upper hand upon discovering her as an unregistered animagus. Rita had complied with every aspect of the girl's mandate in order to protect herself from legal repercussions. She had done her year in exile, suffering through an absence of cash flow by forgoing her usual standards of living. She had even done that piece for the Quibbler for no payment at all, and had followed Granger's instructions to the letter. The girl thought she owned Rita, just by threatening exposure to the Ministry.

"Well, sweetheart," she murmured, staring at the newly framed certificate from the Improper Use of Magic Office that hung above her mantle. "Things change."

With a little giggle, the woman patted her elaborate blonde curls and stood from her sofa. Her magenta robes rustled as she sauntered over to her ornate mahogany desk. She set her goblet of wine on the corner of her desk and pushed her jewel-rimmed glasses farther up her nose as she reached for her emerald green quill and a fresh sheet of parchment. She had just over five hours before the morning's edition of the Prophet would be sent to print.

Rita Skeeter was not a woman to be trifled with, and that little chit was going to learn it.

* * *

Hermione Granger gave a cheerful sigh as she left her room and made her way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Glancing out one of the windows, she smiled at the bright sky that promised exceptionally nicer weather than was normal for mid-October. Though her Friday schedule was just as packed as every other day, she hoped the pleasantness would hold true for the weekend, so she could spend some time reading outside.

"Good morning, Harry," she said as she dropped her bag beside the bench and took a seat at the Gryffindor table. "Good morning, Ronald."

"You're painfully cheery this morning," Harry muttered, while Ron gave a mumbled agreement.

"Ron, don't talk with food in your mouth," she corrected while pulling two pieces of buttered toast onto her plate. "It's utterly disgusting."

The redhead swallowed loudly and shrugged.

She rolled her eyes and glanced up at the sounds of flapping wings. Instinctively, she covered her food with her hand and waited for the onslaught of the owl post to end. Her own copy of the Daily Prophet plopped on top of her hand and she quickly set it aside for the time being. She was hungry now and could wait to read until she was done eating.

As the swarm of owls exited the hall, Hermione picked up a piece of toast and began nibbling. As she chewed, the noise level in the great hall began steadily decreasing until it was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Glancing around in surprise, she met her friends' equally confused expressions.

"Why are they all staring at us?" Harry whispered.

"Dunno, mate," Ron responded quietly.

As whispers began filling the hall, Hermione noticed that the stares were pointed more in her direction than Harry's. Even students from her own House were gaping at her. Feeling extremely self-conscious, she reached for the newspaper and quickly unfolded it.

As her eyes quickly scanned across the front page, she quickly found why everyone had been shocked into silence. Her eyes widened and the color drained from her face as she read. Unconsciously, she began rising from her seat and as she reached the end of the article, she screamed.

* * *

Severus Snape had just finished his bacon and eggs when the usual roar of student chatter disintegrated into quiet whispering. He narrowed his eyes as he set down his coffee mug and critically glanced out at the tables. He saw a number of stares directed towards the Gryffindor table and he sighed, wondering what idiotic thing Potter had said this time.

"WHAT?"

The panicked screech pierced the quiet mutterings, and immediately drew his attention to the only girl standing. Granger had slammed the Prophet down onto the table, knocking over a bowl of scrambled eggs. When her fearful gaze locked onto his own curious one, he raised his brow quizzically but found himself unable to look away. He could see her beginning to sway and he began counting down in his head.

_Three…two…one_. The girl's eyes rolled back in her head, and she rapidly began crashing to the floor. The dunderheads on either side of her – Longbottom and Finnigan – attempted to catch her, but only succeeded in falling out of their seats to join her on the floor.

Smirking, Severus moved his eyes away from the table, fully expecting the rest of the staff to rush to the aid of the Head Girl. When no one stirred, he frowned and glanced about the hall. Though Granger had been the one to take the swan dive, it seemed everyone – including the rest of the staff –was now staring at him. An unsettling feeling washed over him, and he snatched Pomona's copy of the Prophet right out of the pudgy witch's hands.

_What the bloody hell is everyone on about?_ His brow furrowed as he quickly glanced over the top half of the front page before flipping it to the bottom. Just below the crease, in the center column, he found his answer.

_**SCANDAL ABOUNDS AT HOGWARTS**_

_Reported by Rita Skeeter_

_Tantalizing rumors are floating throughout the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry today. This witch, however, is not surprised to learn of the subject of these whispers, newly-appointed Head Girl, Hermione Granger, 18._

_My faithful readers may recognize the name from the coverage of the Tri-Wizard Tournament that took place on the grounds of Hogwarts over the 1994-1995 school year. It was there that I first recognized the plain Miss Granger for the scheming siren she truly is and accurately reported to you of her questionable liaisons with a number of the tournament's champions. After tossing aside The-Boy-Who-Lived to chase after the Bulgarian Quidditch player, Viktor Krum, this fame-seeking harpy returned her venomous affections to Harry Potter as soon as he emerged victorious from the final challenge._

_It seems now, however, that the illustrious Miss Granger has grown weary of her infamous boy-toy and has shifted her attentions to a new, and rather surprising, wizard. And just who is the latest target in this shrew's long list of conquests? Why, that would be Hogwarts's very own Potions Master, Severus Snape. _

_It is well-known by all who have attended the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry within the past fifteen years that Severus Snape, 37, is not a man easily impressed by his students. So how, you may ask, could this hostile man have fallen prey to such a shameless witch? And what would inspire a celebrity hound to stray from the handsome young man who has spent his life as a household name and take a position beside – and often beneath – a comparatively unknown and much older wizard? The Daily Prophet's premiere investigative reporter, yours truly, is on the case._

_Sources inside the castle describe this unlikely vixen as a competitive student, who is as concerned with being at the forefront of her classes as she is concerned with attaching herself to powerful wizards. Her fellow classmates have witnessed her desperate attempts to catch the attention of the Potions Master for several years, and now it seems she has managed to successfully pull him into her web of manipulation._

_Discovery of this dirty little secret may in fact leave readers calling into question the validity of Miss Granger's placement as Head Girl. One must wonder if the honor was bestowed before or after the supposed Princess of Gryffindor sank her calculating claws into the Head of Slytherin House. _

_For more of the delicious details on this forbidden interlude, turn to page 7._

As he finished reading, Snape glanced up to see everyone still staring at him. He noticed that someone – Minerva – had finally attended to the unconscious girl as she was currently instructing Potter and Weasley to carry her to the Hospital Wing.

"Severus," Dumbledore stated quietly, leaning over. "I think it would be best if we spoke in my office."

The dark-haired man sighed and nodded, fixing the student body with a murderous glare before sweeping out of the staff entrance.


	2. Hiding Out

**Disclaimer: ** They don't belong to me and never will, no matter what I say about them.

**A/N: Thank you so much for the encouraging reviews - airi-07, adrianiforever, ptite mac, Akira079, worrywart, P, adder, Startled Boris, hello, Petite Mule, anniekun93, JeniDRalph, Moi, Coolnetta, snapefan520, ButterflyGirl89, AllyZ, and mairamout!  
**

* * *

**Chapter 2: In Hiding  
**

"Out, out, everyone OUT!"

Hermione winced at Madam Pomfrey's shouting from behind the curtain. The back of her head was still pounding from where it had hit the stone floor of the Great Hall. She could not believe she had fainted in front of everyone. It was embarrassing enough on its own, but to know that the entire school – no, the entirety of Wizarding Britain – had just read of her supposed sexual liaisons with a professor was positively mortifying.

_And Professor Snape, no less._ She shuddered in fear and closed her eyes briefly. _Can I just curl up and die now?_

"Merlin, help us," Pomfrey muttered as she appeared around the curtain. "I've never seen so many students riled up over a little bump on the head."

The girl bit her lip to keep from reacting to the snort that escaped Professor McGonagall.

"I take it you haven't read today's_ Prophet_ yet, Poppy," she said with a terse grin.

"Useless drivel if you ask me," the mediwitch grunted, placing a cold compress on the back of Hermione's head. "I haven't read a page of it since _that_ woman's nasty coverage of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. I cancelled my subscription after I spent the day treating this one here for the effects of the bubotuber pus someone sent her."

Hermione groaned, remembering the painful boils that had spread across her hands. She wondered how long she had until the hate mail started falling from the sky. There was no doubt in her mind that it would be worse than last time.

"Yeah, well _that_ woman's back for Round Two," Ron muttered from the corner of the cubicle. Neither he nor Harry had had a chance to read the article yet, but they had caught enough snippets of other students' whispers to guess at the topic.

Poppy turned around in surprise. "Oh? And just why aren't you in class Mr. Weasley? And you, Mr. Potter?"

"Well, Professor McGonagall…" the boy started, falling silent at seeing the pointed stare the deputy headmistress was giving him.

Harry sighed and nudged his friend towards the exit. "See you later, Hermione."

"But our first class is Transfiguration," Ron muttered as they slowly walked towards the door.

"I know."

"But if she's in here, how can she possibly teach, mate?"

Minerva sighed as the boys' voices disappeared into the hallway, and looked back at the nurse. "Is she free to leave?"

"I suppose so," she said with a look towards the girl. "No major damage done to your head. Just keep that compress on or you'll end up with lump. I gave you a mild pain reliever, but if your headache gets worse, you can come back here or see Professor Snape to get a stronger one."

At the pained whimper the young witch gave, Poppy's eyebrow raised. "Something I said?"

McGonagall smirked as she helped Hermione from the bed and pointed her towards the fireplace. "Perhaps you _should _borrow someone's copy of the _Prophet_."

"Oh, please don't," Hermione whispered mournfully. "I'd like to not be hated by everyone on staff."

Her Head of House smiled and shook her head. "Just why would you assume that_ I _hate you?"

The girl looked up at her with a hopeful gaze. "Does this mean you _don't _believe it?"

"Definitely not!" McGonagall laughed. "Not only do I know you and Professor Snape well enough to see it for the poppycock it truly is, but I also remember Miss Skeeter from her time here. Her vocabulary may have improved, but her morals and methods certainly have not."

The younger girl gave a small sigh of relief as she watched her professor toss in a pinch of floo powder and call out the Headmaster's office.

"Welcome back to the world of consciousness, Miss Granger!" Dumbledore's cheery voice called out once she had appeared in his office.

She attempted a weak smile, but it faltered once she realized who sat in the armchair facing the headmaster's desk. Gulping down a large helping of air, she crossed over to the plaid sofa and sat down nervously.

Minerva stepped out of the fireplace a few seconds after the girl and immediately strode over to the desk. She was about to address the Headmaster, when a silky drawl interrupted her.

"And all this time, I've been laboring under the false assumption that the Head Girl's quarters were warded in a similar fashion to the girls' dormitories… such a pity that it must have taken me until recently to discover otherwise."

As Dumbledore covered his mouth with his hand in an attempt not to chuckle out loud, the Transfiguration professor raised an eyebrow and spun around. When she noticed Snape had his nose buried in the _Daily Prophet_, she gave him a heated stare. "Severus, what in Merlin's name _are_ you doing?"

"Minerva," he said, acknowledging her presence as he momentarily glanced up from the newspaper. "If you're really that curious, I'm reading about my sex life. If you weren't aware, it has suddenly become rather public and is surprisingly quite… _active_."

Hermione gave a defeated cry and buried her face in her hands. She had not bothered to actually read page seven and she really did not want to know what it said.

The deputy headmistress clucked in disapproval and forcefully smacked her colleague on the arm. "Put that rubbish away."

"Nonsense," Snape replied dryly as he continued to read. "If the rest of the world gets to explore my extra-curricular activities, I certainly have a right to get caught up. At the very least, it may suggest a cause for why I've been so exhausted this year. Apparently, someone else has been… running me ragged."

A fierce heat exploded in the young witch's cheeks, and she wished desperately to dissolve into the couch, never to be seen again.

"You're _enjoying_ this?" McGonagall asked, her eyebrows narrowed in disbelief. She glanced quickly at the Headmaster, whose eyes were still annoyingly twinkling. "He's bloody well enjoying this, Albus! _Un_believable!"

Angrily, she ripped the paper out of the younger man's hands and threw it onto the desk. When he made another reach for it, she grabbed it again, smacked him over the head with it, and then stomped over to the fireplace. As the pages of the _Daily Prophet_ burned to ash, she fixed him with a cold glare.

"I believe you owe Pomona seven knuts for destroying her paper," he said in an unaffected tone. "As for your accusation that I am enjoying this, Madam, I can assure you I am not. Merely attempting to get into the celebratory mood for the little soiree I'm sure someone shall be throwing me this evening."

Hermione looked up at him in confusion and then glanced at her Head of House. Noticing the sudden ashen complexion on the elder woman's face, she narrowed her brows. Half a second later, she finally understood what Snape was referring to, and a queasy feeling settled in her stomach. "Oh, God."

Severus glanced at her worried expression and raised his eyebrows in surprise. He blew out a breath and donned a critical glare. "And what exactly_ did_ you do to incur the wrath of the nastiest gossip-monger alive?"

"You're implying she's the only one at fault here?" McGonagall asked, stepping over towards Hermione. She picked up the cold compress that was setting on the couch and placed it none too gently atop the girl's head. "I seem to remember you biting that woman's head off a time or ten during the Tournament. I'm surprised it's taken her this long, honestly."

The wizard rolled his eyes and picked imaginary lint from his robes. "Seeing as _she's_ the calculating shrew, and I'm merely the newest victim in her long line of conquests, it isn't a great leap to surmise–"

"Severus," Dumbledore interrupted in a warning tone. "Miss Granger is not to blame for this."

"No?" he queried with a raised brow. "There has to be some explanation for why this happened now."

Hermione sighed and shifted the ice pack. "She wanted to do some stupid article on Harry, and I nicely told her to bugger off."

"_I'm_ in this mess because Potter couldn't be bothered to write his own rejection letter?" A dark expression appeared on his face as he quickly rose out of his chair.

"Not exactly," she whispered meekly.

"What do you mean, _not exactly_?" he bellowed, towering over her.

Dumbledore rose from his seat as the girl cowered in her seat. "Severus, sit down."

Snape let out a huff as he dropped back into his chair. "You _will_ explain yourself, Granger."

"She will do no such thing," Minerva stated, "unless you stop glaring at her like that."

"Pardon the interruption," the Headmaster said softly, "but I think it prudent to mention that we will have company rather shortly."

The three of them glanced at him in surprise and then at the office door when it burst open to reveal two slightly out-of-breath Gryffindors. At the sight of the Potions Master, they both briefly paled before reddening with anger.

"You!" they cried in unison.

Snape glared at the two boys. "Could someone please explain to me how I could have possibly been stuffing the Head Girl without her two feeble-minded henchmen catching wind of it? Or am I just to assume that they were fully aware of the situation, seeing as they can't be separated for more than a handful of minutes?"

"You stupid ba—"

"Mr. Potter! He is _still_ a teacher, and you _will_ treat him as such!" McGonagall shouted, before spinning to face the dark-haired man. "One more word like that out of you, Severus, and I will do much worse than turn you into a ferret!"

When he rolled his eyes, she glanced back at the recently-arrived students. "I do believe that the two of you were instructed to go to class."

"We did, Professor," Harry answered, still glaring at Snape. "But since you weren't there, everyone else just copied down the assignment, and then started in on us about that stupid article. Malfoy started reading it aloud, and when we heard it was Snape –"

"Professor Snape, Harry," Hermione corrected. When everyone but Dumbledore looked at her in surprise, she shrugged and tossed the cold compress onto the couch. "It's not like it's his fault."

"Hermione, are you alright?" Ron asked, ducking around the Deputy Headmistress. When she only glared at him in response, he narrowed his eyes. "Don't get mad at me – I'm the one who told you not to mess with that cow in the first place. If you had listened to me, this wouldn't have happened."

"Oh, thank you, Ronald," she muttered, crossing her arms. "Because I couldn't possibly have figured that out yet."

"Sorry," he mumbled, feeling sheepish.

Dumbledore took note of the angered look on the girl's face and gestured to his second-in-command. "Minerva, perhaps it might be best if you return to your classes. It is enough that we'll have to cancel Potions today."

The witch nodded and started instructing the boys to leave as well, while Snape tightened his gaze on the Headmaster. "You're cancelling my classes?"

"I think that might be wise, Severus, don't you?"

The younger professor kept his face neutral, but tensed his hands into fists. "For how long, exactly?"

The Headmaster sighed. "Let us table that discussion for now."

Hermione flicked her gaze between the two men and felt a small surge of rage beginning to boil inside of her. She could read between the lines just as well as Professor Snape could. It was unfair that such a pack of lies could result in his duties being suspended – for any amount of time.

"UGH! I should have squashed that stupid bug when I had the chance!" she hissed. "I should have just sent the cow to Azkaban and been done with it!"

It was not until she heard the horrified gasps of her two best friends that she realized she had said it out loud. Panicked, she noticed that all three staff members were staring at her in shock. McGonagall had frozen with her hand on the door knob, Snape had tilted his head and was looking at her with wide eyes, and even Dumbledore had his eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline.

Surprisingly, Snape was the one who recovered first. He narrowed his eyes into an accusatory glare and crossed his arms. "Miss Granger, I suggest you get to that explanation _immediately_."

The girl sighed and gave a brief guilty look towards her Head of House and then dropped her gaze into her lap. She took in a deep breath, closed her eyes, and launched into a detailed explanation of all of her dealings with Rita Skeeter. When she had finished, she flushed with shame at their continued silence.

"Well," Minerva cleared her throat and pulled open the door. "We'll be on our way, then."

Ron and Harry flashed their friend matching looks of sympathy as they were quickly ushered out of the office. As the door clicked shut, Hermione winced at the disappointed expression that had been on her favorite instructor's face.

"That is quite the tale, Miss Granger," Dumbledore stated, watching her with an amused glimmer in his eyes.

Severus blinked a number of times as he studied the girl. Though he would never admit it to anyone, he was impressed by the ferocity in which she had gone after the so-called newswoman. Her attempts at blackmail had obviously failed in the end, but the girl had balls – _that_ much was for certain. He momentarily forgot his irritation upon discovering that the Gryffindor "darling" had some Slytherin in her after all.

_And quite frequently if the article was to be believed._

Straightening in his seat, he unfolded his arms and gracefully crossed one leg over the other. "I assume from the little exposé in today's paper that Ms. Skeeter has finally registered herself as an animagus."

The girl exhaled deeply, surprised by the lack of ire in his voice, and collapsed against the back of the couch. "I would assume so, yes. I am really sorry, Professor. I never expected she'd go this far, and I never thought she'd go after you."

Snape let out a huff of air, looking away from her hastily. He was rather unsettled by the fact he could not find any further anger towards her. "It's not the first time I've been under investigation, nor will it be the last."

"Investigation?" she squeaked.

"You didn't seriously think the Board of Governors, or the Ministry for that matter, would let a charge like this be made without launching an inquiry, did you?"

Hermione frowned at the look he gave her and then scratched her head. "Well, shouldn't that be easy in this case? I mean, it's not like there's any truth to it. Couldn't we just submit to questioning under Veritaserum or something? You probably didn't even vote for me to be Head Girl, so there should be a record of that, right?"

"Actually, Miss Granger," Dumbledore entered into the conversation. "You might be surprised to find that the record reflects quite the opposite."

"What?" she whispered, quickly glancing back at the younger professor. "But you don't even like me!"

The man opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the Headmaster.

"Now I'm sure that's not true, my dear. Severus has always had a great admiration for intelligent witches – even those in Gryffindor."

The girl raised her eyebrows at his use of the word 'witches' instead of 'students,' and felt even more confused by the murderous glare that the Potions Master was sending his employer.

"Albus," he hissed.

"Calm down, Severus," the elder wizard chuckled. "I'm merely assuring Miss Granger that you do not, in fact, dislike her as she is so inclined to believe."

Snape's nostrils flared, but he reigned in the rest of his temper. "Fine. While I have no great fondness for you, Miss Granger, I do recognize that you possess intelligence and ability. That was why I submitted your name for nomination."

"You've never recognized it before," she muttered, before finally comprehending what he had said. "Wait! _You_ submitted my name?"

"Heads of House are not allowed to nominate students from within their own House," he shrugged.

"But _you_ picked _me_?" she stammered in disbelief.

The wizard frowned and shifted in his seat. "Don't let it go to your already overlarge head, Granger. I only suggested you because there were no suitable candidates in either Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw."

"It was you and not Professors Flitwick or Sprout?"

"I'm beginning to rethink my declaration about your intelligence," he grunted, rolling his eyes. "I spat out your name before either of them had the chance to, so that I could watch them flounder about trying to find another student to add to the ballot."

"Now _that_ I can believe," she sighed, dropping her head back against the couch. "Oh, this is bad. This is really, really bad!"

"Unfortunately, Veritaserum is out of the question," Dumbledore added. "Though Severus is immune to it, we cannot risk you revealing anything privileged."

"I don't know anything privileged," she mumbled, glancing at him in surprise. "Do I?"

"Nevertheless," the Headmaster continued. "Veritaserum is not considered definitive in a Ministry investigation."

Hermione blew out a frustrated breath. "Then what do we do?"

"We wait."

"We _wait_?" She sat upright and leaned against the arm of the sofa as she stared at him. "What do you mean, _we wait_?"

Snape snorted. "I suddenly regret my nomination."

"Yeah, well…that makes two of us!" she shouted, spinning to face him. Her face paled at the realization she was yelling at him, and the girl quickly sank back into the couch in shame. After a few moments of silence, she sighed and ran a hand through her messy hair. "Well… do I have to wait here or can I hide somewhere else? I assume I'm suspended from classes?"

"I think it would be most unwise – if only for your own well-being – for you to return to your normal schedule," Dumbledore agreed. He glanced towards his younger colleague and raised his brow in silent question. "As to where you will spend your day –"

Severus sighed and shook his head.

"—you will regrettably have to remain here," the elder man finished, returning his gaze to her.

Hermione groaned and pulled her feet up onto the couch. Not two hours ago, she was noting how pleasant the day appeared to be. One vindictive news report later, and she was practically imprisoned in a room with Professor Snape. Her head was beginning to pound again, and the only thing the Headmaster had decided to do about the situation was to wait. She wanted to ask what they were waiting for, but she doubted either of the men would honestly respond to her query.

Wincing as her fingers found a snarl in her hair; she took in a deep breath and glanced around for her book bag. With a sinking feeling, she remembered Harry setting it down in the Hospital Wing, but neither she nor Professor McGonagall had remembered to grab it.

_Trapped in a room with nothing to do_. She sighed and chewed on her lip nervously. The girl only lasted a few minutes before curiosity and boredom overwhelmed her. "So Heads of House can't nominate students from their own House?"

When Dumbledore made no response save to stare at his subordinate with an amused glint in his eye, Severus rolled his eyes and grunted an affirmative. A few seconds passed before he spoke again. "There's a reason why there hasn't been a Head Boy or Girl from Slytherin since before the First Wizarding War."

"Really?" she asked, her eyebrows rising. "That seems exceptionally unfair."

"How very un-Gryffindor of you," he sneered.

Hermione frowned and folded her arms against her chest. "Just because I'm in Gryffindor doesn't mean I think all Slytherins are horrible people."

"Indeed," he quipped. "I believe Ms. Skeeter brought that fact to light in her latest literary accomplishment."

The girl blushed a deep shade of crimson and entered into a rather pointed silence that spanned several minutes. Eventually, when her cheeks had cooled to their normal color and temperature, she began pondering the rest of that morning's conversation.

"So, you're actually immune to Veritaserum, Professor?"

Snape groaned and flicked his gaze to the Headmaster. "Don't you have a book she can read?"

* * *

Many hours later, Severus yawned and worked out a crick in his neck. He glanced briefly at the large golden clock on the wall and decided it would not be much longer. Darkness had already descended, and the Dark Lord could summon him at any time.

Blowing out a long breath, he calmly collected his thoughts and vanquished any concerns he had about confronting the Death Eaters. There was no large cover story he had to pass off this time. For once, he was able to tell the Dark Lord the truth.

A soft whimpering sound caught his attention, and he suddenly glanced over towards the hideous plaid sofa. The girl had fallen asleep not long after she had finished her supper, and was currently sprawled rather inelegantly across the length of the couch. The book she had finally picked from the Headmaster's shelves was still propped open beneath one of her hands, and was teetering dangerously on the edge of the cushion. One hearty stomp of his foot, and the tome would undoubtedly crash to the floor.

The rest of their day had passed relatively quietly, benefited greatly by the anti-Howler charm that Albus had cast upon the room. He highly doubted, however, that the peace would last much longer. They could not hide out in the Headmaster's office for the rest of their lives. Eventually, they would have to face the throngs of angry villagers with their pitchforks and torches.

Snape had inhaled deeply and was just about to close his eyes for a moment's rest when he felt the familiar burn flare across his left forearm. Sighing, he stood from his chair and crossed over to the fireplace, grabbing a handful of floo powder. He was preparing to floo into his personal quarters to grab his robes and then exit from the secret door on the side of the castle, when Granger startled awake, dropping her book in the process.

"Professor?" she asked sleepily.

He cleared his throat and gave her a pointed stare. "Do not leave this room."

Her eyebrows pulled together in confusion, but she nodded in return. At seeing the gesture, Severus tossed in the floo powder, announced his destination, and disappeared in a swirl of green flames.


	3. The Fall-Out

**A/N: Thanks for reviewing - bournespeed, ButterflyGirl89, Golfbabe87, mairamout, mEEEm, Lost-puppyEYES, JeniDRalph, startled boris, AllyZ, ptite mac, snapefan520, InezSophia, Stiefelchen, Sideways Jill, Petite Mule, notwritten, I'm home, klcn, Coolnetta, HermioneFan28, knitchick, staypee, Eleantris, Vif119, mysteriouslife, callalily32, Bumpyduey, AngelApple70x7, kandd, JenniferLupinBlack, and Lyra Lupin!  
**

* * *

**Chapter 3: The Fall Out  
**

Severus raised a lip in disgust as he stared up at the abandoned mill. The walls were beginning to crumble, and few – if any – of the windows retained any shards of glass. Ivy had crept up the first story and was already making headway upon the second. Though time had taken its toll on the structure, there was no mistaking it for any other decrepit mills in Britain. It was the old mill located on the edge of the town of Cokeworth – the very mill his father had worked at until its sudden closure launched the already disagreeable man into the drunken monster Severus remembered as a child.

The Dark Lord knew all of this, of course. He had undoubtedly picked the location purposely to torment his wayward follower. The whole place reeked of the evil wizard's twisted sense of artistry. Nowhere else would serve as fitting a scene for the Potion Master's murder should the need arise.

Donning a stony mask, Snape pushed those thoughts from his mind and picked his way through the dust and rubble until he found light spilling from one of the back rooms.

The inner circle Death Eaters were gathered around the perimeter of the room, each pair of eyes fixing upon the newcomer's form. Severus noted that Bellatrix Lestrange's eyes were especially bright tonight as she anticipated the possibility of bloodshed and violence. He barely registered the hurt look on Lucius Malfoy's face before Voldemort rose from a dusty chair.

"Severus," he hissed angrily as the man bowed before him.

Snape controlled the urge to shudder as the red eyes threatened to pierce through his soul. When the Dark Lord tossed something at his feet, he glanced down and squared his jaw at the sight of the _Daily Prophet._

"You have strayed," the wizard accused, "and thought you could keep it a secret FROM ME?"

"Forgive me, my Lord, but I keep no secrets from you," he responded, dipping his head in respect. "I was as surprised as anyone to read those lies."

"Lies?" Voldemort's eyes flashed dangerously. He fingered his wand causing a ripple of excitement to pulse through the gathered crowd. "You claim your sexual relationship with that mudblood to be a lie?"

Severus kept his composure as he raised his eyes. He knew better than to beg for the Dark Lord's trust if he wanted to avoid torture. The Dark Lord thrived upon the weakness of his general followers, but despised it in his closest advisors. "I do, my Lord. As it turns out, the swotty chit thought she could try her hand at blackmail, and it backfired, leaving that…_ insect_ with the desire for public humiliation. I merely happened to be a handy tool in her quest for revenge."

The dark wizard seemed to calm somewhat with the explanation and had narrowed his eyes to slits as he considered the explanation. "I require proof of this."

The Potions Master calmly met the scrutinizing gaze and instantly felt the Dark Lord ripping through his mind. For once, he had very little occluding to do, and he eagerly pushed forth the majority of the memories from that day. He allowed him to feel his curiosity and amusement at the girl's sudden outburst in the Great Hall, as well as his own shock as the attention turned to him and his disbelief as he read through the article. He showed him most of the conversation in Dumbledore's office, leaving out his subtle displays of concern for the girl's safety as well as the revelation that he was immune to Veritaserum.

When Voldemort was satisfied that he had seen everything of importance and found no evidence of a relationship with the girl, he quickly withdrew and erupted into a fit of dark chuckling.

"It is as he says," he stated to everyone listening. "The mudblood is receiving her comeuppance for thinking she could best a Slytherin at her own game!"

As the group began to laugh – or cackle, in the case of Bellatrix – Severus allowed himself a small smirk. His safety was ensured; now he only had to procure the girl's.

"And the old fool?" Voldemort queried as the laughter died away. "What does he have to say on the matter?"

The dark-haired man sighed and folded his arms. "As you may have seen, he has relieved me of my teaching duties until word is given otherwise from the Board of Governors, but he has made no further decisions. He is waiting, my Lord, to hear of your reaction. Likely he will demand that I protect the girl."

The snake-like wizard thoughtfully rubbed his chin and nodded. "Of course he will, and you shall bow to his commands Severus."

"Yes, my Lord," he nodded.

"I cannot have my spy hindered by false accusations, however amusing they may be," the Dark Lord continued, turning towards his other Death Eaters. "Lucius! You are still in good standing with a number of school governors, are you not?"

"If by in good standing, you mean I am in direct control of their finances," the blonde grinned as he moved forward, "then yes, my Lord, I am."

"The longer Severus is without his position, the more suspicious the situation will seem. You will make sure he is restored to his rightful place without censure."

Malfoy nodded and stepped back into line.

"Bellatrix!"

"Yes, my Lord?" she sweetly crooned, drawing matching looks of disgust from her brother-in-law and Snape.

"I believe that repulsive woman was a former roommate of yours. She is only entertaining so long as she does not jeopardize my plans." He waved one pale hand dismissively. "Dispatch of her immediately."

A disturbing grin erupted on the witch's face. "With pleasure, my Lord."

Her crack of apparition punctuated the room, and Severus hoped that the Headmaster had followed his advice and had already taken the loathsome witch into protection. He listened attentively as Voldemort directed Nott and Goyle to lean on their contacts in the Ministry, and Avery to do the same with his connections at the _Daily Prophet_.

As ridiculously damaging the article had been to their reputations, it would serve well as a test to see how established the Dark Lord's forces were within the wizarding society. If Snape had not known better, he might have considered that Dumbledore himself had been behind the rumors. As it was, the Head of the Order was probably lamenting the fact that he had not thought of it, and would undoubtedly milk the situation for everything it was worth.

His lips turned up in disgust as he contemplated the possible ramifications of that idea.

"Severus," the Dark Lord called, turning back to him. "You will return to grovel at the hems of that dreadful fool and accept whatever terms he demands."

"Yes, my Lord," he nodded. "And the girl? It is likely that he will –"

"Yes, yes," the wizard interrupted with a wave of his hand. "I am fully aware of what types of stories he will concoct – love and happiness and all other disgusting manners of folly. You will accept it – I will not repeat myself again, Severus."

"Forgive me, my Lord." He dropped his eyes to the dirty floor.

"As for the girl," Voldemort continued. "She means nothing to me. I will not sacrifice my spy over an insignificant mudblood. As I cannot risk you falling out of favor, for as long as she is attached to you, she will remain entirely unharmed."

Snape felt a hint of relief flood through his body as he was dismissed. He held his breath until he had disapparated from the miserable building and appeared in a clearing within the Forbidden Forest. Sighing loudly, he rubbed his forehead and then picked his way through the dark of the night to inform the Headmaster.

* * *

"Granger!"

Hermione woke up in a panic and promptly fell off of the sofa, banging her elbow hard against the floor. Holding her hand against her pounding chest, she glanced up fearfully at the Potions Master.

"The Headmaster asked that I wake you," he stated coldly.

"And you couldn't think of any other way besides shouting in my ear?" she hissed as adrenaline coursed through her bloodstream.

"Cranky in the morning, I see."

The witch frowned and picked herself up from the floor, rubbing her elbow. "You're cranky all day, so I don't see how you can be one to judge….sir."

Snape scowled as he yanked open the office door.

"Where are we going?" she asked, her eyebrow raised in suspicion.

"I am to escort you and that tree growing out of your head to your quarters," he sneered, gesturing down the staircase.

Hermione glared as her hands flew to her head, trying to beat her hair back into submission. "Why are we going to my room?"

"_You_ are going to your room to pack an overnight bag." Dissatisfied by her pace on the staircase, he pushed past her.

"Overnight bag?" She paused in confusion before rushing after him. "Where am I going after that?"

"_We_ are going to Headquarters," he muttered bitterly before stepping past the gargoyle.

The girl widened her eyes as she realized she would be walking through the halls alone with the professor with whom she was accused of having relations. Her stomach dropped a bit further when she glanced down and noticed how rumpled her school robes were after spending the night on Dumbledore's couch.

_Well, this certainly isn't going to help matters any. _

"Professor," she called softly as she tried to smooth some of the wrinkles from her robes. "Why are _you_ escorting me?"

Severus grunted and glared at the floor. "A matter of keeping up appearances."

"But won't this only strengthen rumors? Shouldn't –"

"Circumstances have changed, Granger," he stated harshly, picking up his speed as he ascended the staircase.

Hermione narrowed her eyebrows as she sprinted to catch up with him. "What circumstances?"

When he did not immediately answer her, she huffed angrily and ducked around him, blocking his path. "Why aren't you answering my question?"

Snape dramatically shifted his eyes to the wall. "Perhaps I've reached my quota for the day."

"Professor, what circumstances?"

With a sigh, he turned his head to look at her. As she currently stood a few steps higher than him, they were eye-to-eye, and he could see the fearful demand written in her gaze. He shifted, slightly uncomfortable, and dropped his voice. "The Headmaster will love to tell you all about it… when we get to Headquarters."

He attempted to move around her, but she quickly shuffled to the side to stand in front of him again.

"Why can't you –" Her words died into a gasp as he grabbed hold of both of her arms and pushed her body to the wall, effectively moving her out of his way.

Before he had let go of her, however, a startled cry came from the top of the staircase. They both glanced up to see a group of Ravenclaws staring back at them in shock. It was rather early on a Saturday morning for any students to be about, but upon noticing the textbooks being carried, Snape realized they must be on their way to a study session before breakfast.

"Five points from Ravenclaw for loitering in the stairwell," he stated as he calmly dropped his arms to his sides. The group of students parted as he strode towards them.

Hermione's face flushed with embarrassment as she slowly followed behind him. Tears were stinging her eyes as she realized just how compromising the position in which they were found had been. Five pairs of eyes bore holes in her back as she dutifully trailed after the dark-robed man, and she could almost picture the headlines if any of the students were to tell anyone.

_Which they will_. She whimpered in shame upon reaching the door to her room.

"You have five minutes," Severus instructed.

Opening her door, the girl glanced back at her professor and scowled. He stood in the hallway, completely unaffected by what had just transpired. Either he did not fully grasp the gossip it would create, or he just did not care that both of their reputations had probably been tarnished beyond repair.

After she took eight and a half minutes to angrily pack a bag, change her clothes, use the bathroom, brush her teeth, and wrangle her hair into a binder, she joined him again in the corridor. Without a word to her, he set off again towards the staircase.

Hermione glared at his backside and slung her bag over her shoulder before following him.

* * *

Absolute silence pervaded the remainder of their journey to 12 Grimmauld Place. Snape stiffly grabbed hold of her arm before apparating them both, and Hermione then quickly yanked out of his grasp the instant they had arrived at their destination.

Without even bothering to knock, he pushed open the front door and waited until she had passed him before slamming it shut.

"FILTH –"

The portrait of Mrs. Black was immediately silenced by a flick of the professor's fingers. Hermione glanced back at him in surprise. No one else could quiet the painting that efficiently – it had taken forever for Molly Weasley to manage something useful.

"Library," he grunted, mistaking her awed expression for one of confusion.

Hermione sighed and stepped towards the door at the end of the hall. As they both crossed the threshold into the Black family library, she barely had time to register the occupants of the room before she felt herself suddenly pushed from behind.

"YOU GREASY SON-OF-A-BITCH!"

Picking herself up from the floor, she whirled around in time to see Sirius Black slam Snape's body against the door frame. Panicking, she rushed towards them and tried to pull on the man's arm.

"Sirius! Let him go!"

Sirius brushed her off and continued to scuffle with the professor.

"Is that jealousy I detect, dog?" Severus sneered, breaking free of his grasp and shoving him.

"Couldn't get a woman your own age to shag you, Snivellus, so you prey on your students instead?" he growled, launching another attack.

"He didn't _do_ anything!" Hermione shouted, glancing desperately around her for help. Her eyes widened at the realization that no one else was doing anything to break up the fight. Fred and George were watching with enough interest that indicated there had been a bet placed on the outcome. Even Remus and the Weasley patriarchs – the three kindest people she knew – were simply averting their gaze and pretending nothing was out of order.

At the sound of something crunching, she witnessed in horror that blood was beginning to trickle from her professor's already crooked nose. He seemed entirely unfazed, however, as he plowed the curly-haired man into the fireplace, causing Sirius to let out a pained gasp.

Hermione grabbed her head with both hands and tried to sort out what to do. When Sirius managed to reverse their positions, pinning Snape against the bookshelf, she quickly made up her mind and darted towards them. Before either of the men had noticed, she squeezed herself in between them and shoved Sirius with all of her might.

"Knock it off!" she yelled, leveling her wand at the man's chest as he stumbled several paces backwards.

Sirius was panting heavily as he glared at the man behind her, but made no attempt at advancing. "Is that it, _Snivellus_? Too much of a coward that you have to use a girl for a shield?"

Hermione could feel Snape tense up behind her, and in the blink of an eye, ropes wound around Sirius's body. He let out an angry shout as he suddenly found himself hanging from the ceiling by his ankles.

"ENOUGH!"

Everyone turned to stare at the doorway where an irate McGonagall stood with her hands on her hips. "You all should be ashamed of yourselves! Severus, put him down!"

The ropes immediately vanished, and Sirius gracelessly landed on his head.

Minerva sent a glare towards the Potions Master, who merely shrugged in response.

"Miss Granger, go take a seat."

Hermione's eyes followed the witch's outstretched hand, but looked reluctantly at empty seats next to Molly and Remus. "No thank you, Professor."

"Granger," Snape grunted as he adjusted his nose. "Stop being a nuisance and go sit down."

"No," she repeated, glancing back at him. "I'd rather stand over here and be thought a nuisance than sit with anyone who thinks me a harlot."

"Rubbish! No one here thinks…" McGonagall trailed off as she caught sight of the expressions on the others' faces. Her own face turned harsh, and she fixed everyone with a nasty glare before conjuring up a sofa next to Hermione and Severus. "Now, the both of you will sit! Albus will be here momentarily with Kingsley, and in the meantime you all will behave! I will not hesitate to throw anyone out of this room."

To emphasize her point, she conjured a wingback chair next to the door and sat down with a hawkish look in her eye.

Hermione cast a hesitant glance towards the gathered Order members and then stepped around to take a seat on one end of the sofa. Severus collapsed onto the other end and shot a dangerous look towards Sirius, who had finally picked himself off of the floor and stumbled into the seat next to Remus.

The front door slammed shut, followed by a muffled curse and the shrieking of Mrs. Black's portrait.

"BLOOD-TRAITORS AND FILTH –"

"Oh, SHUT UP, you stupid hag!"

A second later, Nymphadora Tonks appeared in the doorway, sucking on the finger she had pinched in the door. "I swear one day I'm going to set that menace on fire."

Snape rolled his eyes as he dabbed his sleeve at the blood dripping from his nose. "I'm sure your flea-ridden cousin would much appreciate you burning down this hovel he calls a home."

"Oh, because your grease pile is anything to sneeze at, Snivellus!" Sirius retorted angrily, clutching at his head.

"The phrase is 'nothing to sneeze at,' dog-breath," Severus responded.

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "Ooh, pardon me, _Professor_. Surprised you had time to break away from the dictionary to diddle your students –"

"Enough!" Minerva shouted. "Any more out of you, Sirius, and I'll string you up myself! Wipe the smirk off your face, Severus, or you'll soon join him!"

With a soft snort, George held out his hand to receive the three coins Fred owed him.

Tonks raised her eyebrows at the tension rippling between the two dark-haired men and stepped further into the room. Ignoring the disapproving looks from Remus and her cousin, she chose to flop down on the couch cushion between Snape and the girl desperately staring at the wall. Leaning over, she spoke in a kind tone. "Wotcher, Hermione."

The younger witch glanced over and gave a tense smile in greeting. She grimaced, however, when the Auror pulled out the morning's edition of _The_ _Daily_ _Prophet_.

"Quite the sensation these days, aren't you, Granger?" she winked.

Hermione let out a sigh and pulled her feet onto the couch. "_Now_ who am I sleeping with?"

"No worries, love," Tonks said casually, unfolding the front page. "So far you're still only shagging everyone's favorite Potions Master."

She then held out the paper so the girl could read the prominent headline.

**_Truth to the Rumors!_**

**_Students Tell All in the Hogwarts Head Girl Scandal!_**

"Ugh! What could they possibly have to tell?" she groaned, dropping her head against the back of the couch.

"The same load of rubbish as last time," Tonks responded, her eyes scanning the article. "Desperately seeking his attention…Blah, blah, blah…brewing love potions to influence him and keep him interested – drugging a Potions Master, eh? Good on you, Hermione… flooing into his quarters in the dead of night…"

"I don't even _have_ a fireplace in my room!" Hermione grimaced. "And if I did, how would anyone know that?"

"Perhaps they've recently taken up Seeing," Tonks suggested without lifting her eyes from the page.

A loud snort came from McGonagall's direction, and Hermione felt the corners of her lips turn up into a small smile.

"…Making eyes at each other in the Great Hall…" The pink-haired witch glanced up at the man beside her. "Making eyes, eh, Professor?"

A dangerous glare was his only response, and Tonks giggled as she turned back to the paper. "Well if that's how you make eyes at someone, you must be sleeping with the entire student body."

Sirius made a muffled comment but settled into a bitter snarl as Minerva pointed her wand at him.

"…Ooh, though you've apparently been spotted canoodling in the library after hours! How romantic of you two! Such a public setting, though – practically begging to get caught, weren't you?"

"Nymphadora, would you stop glorifying it all?" Molly Weasley chided. "This isn't something to celebrate."

The motherly woman's intrusion earned her matching glares from the three people seated on the sofa, and the tips of Tonks's hair flared red briefly before fading back into a cheery bubblegum pink.

"So you didn't believe it at all?" Hermione asked of the young Auror, a glimmer of hope sparking in her eyes.

Tonks snorted and shook her head. "You _do_ realize how tightly wound our dear professor is, no? He wouldn't be caught dead _canoodling_ anywhere, let alone with a student in the library. Much to my eternal disappointment."

"Nymphadora!" several voices shouted at once. Remus and Sirius wore equally dark glares as they glanced between the Slytherin Head and the Auror.

"Don't call me that!" she hissed back, scrunching the edges of the newspaper in her lap. "And I'm just as entitled to share my opinion of him as you all are!"

"Might I remind you that I _am_ seated directly to your left," Snape sneered in warning.

"It wouldn't be half as much fun if you weren't," she beamed up at him. "Plus, you're proving my point. Still as ornery as ever – clearly the evidence points to you _not_ getting laid."

Severus grunted and crossed his arms bitterly, glaring at Minerva until the smirk vanished from her face.

"Anyone who thinks otherwise is a dunderhead. Merlin, you're practically a monk, aren't you?" Tonks continued, clearly enjoying the discomfort creeping into the room. "If you hadn't been, I'd probably have given you a go."

Hermione bit down on her lip to keep from laughing at the horrified expressions and handful of gasps that permeated the room. The conversation had given her a strange new outlook on the pink-haired witch, but she was immeasurably grateful to have had the room's attention shifted away from her.

Snape had nearly choked on his own saliva, but covered it up by loudly clearing his throat. "I shudder to think of what you may have broken."

Tonks gave a hearty chuckle and let him steal the newspaper from her lap. "Touché, Professor."

An odd silence descended upon the room as her merry chatter ceased. Severus disappeared behind the newspaper, purposely ignoring the number of glares pointed in his direction.

"Oi! Hermione!" George called out, puncturing the quiet.

"We believe you!" Fred smiled.

"Mum didn't –"

"—of course –"

"—but we do!"

"Boys!" Molly shouted, turning in her seat to glare at the twins.

"Just telling the truth, Mum," Fred smirked.

"Like you always wanted us to do," his twin chimed in with a wink towards Hermione.

"Right now I want you to be quiet," the Weasley matron responded.

"We're just saying, Mum."

"You shouldn't have sent her a Howler yesterday."

"Yeah, Hermione's a stickler for rules."

"Barely had her prefect badge before she was threatening to write home about George and I."

"Knew we wouldn't care about detentions or points…"

"…so she went straight for the jugular!"

"A mite unfairly, I might add."

"_Unfairly_?" Hermione cried with a glare. "You were testing Puking Pastilles on students!"

"We had their consent," Fred shrugged. "_And_ we were paying them."

"And they were Fainting Fancies, thank you very much," George corrected.

"Right, like you didn't test the others on them," she frowned. "And it doesn't matter if you had consent – they were _first_ years!"

The twins glanced about the room, noticing that every pair of eyes were on them now. Molly was barely managing to keep a lid on her temper, while Arthur was staring at them with a look that indicated to everyone there would be a discussion later. McGonagall had pinched her lips in censure, and Lupin fixed them with a disapproving gaze. Even Snape had pulled down the newspaper far enough to glare at them. Only Sirius had an amused expression on his face as he regarded the situation.

"Well, it wasn't like we hadn't tested them on ourselves first," George mumbled while Fred nodded emphatically. "And we had the antidote all worked out already."

"And they were all perfectly fine afterwards," Fred pointed out.

"You couldn't have _known_ that!" Hermione protested.

"See," George gestured to her with his head. "Rule stickler."

Fred nodded to his brother. "Aye. Only way she'd let Snape stick it to her is if it was written in the syllabus."

"FRED GIDEON WEASLEY!"

Hermione felt her cheeks flare red as Mrs. Weasley jumped out of her seat and shouted at her sons. It seemed that action had given the green flag for everyone else to start in on each other. Arthur had stood to calm his wife and had only managed to step into the cross-hairs of her ire himself. In between screaming at her children, she shouted at him for always encouraging the twins' inquisitiveness and never being harsh enough in their punishments.

On the other side of the room, Sirius had begun criticizing his younger cousin, who had launched up from the sofa; her hair growing redder with every passing second. Remus was desperately trying to get his best friend to stop yelling at Tonks, who was spending just as much effort telling the werewolf to butt out as she was telling her cousin to bugger off and die.

Minerva it seemed had given up on trying to keep everyone in line and had sunk back in her armchair. With a shake of her head, she closed her eyes and tried to drown out the noise.

Hermione surreptitiously glanced at the Potions professor on the end of the couch. His expression was perfectly neutral, as if nothing at all were happening around them. Wrapping her arms around her waist, she dropped her eyes to the floor and wished she could run away from it all.

"Well, isn't this a lively gathering," a soft voice cut through the pandemonium.

Everyone ceased their quarreling and turned to stare at the Hogwarts Headmaster as he stepped into the room with Kingsley Shacklebolt and Mad-Eye Moody at his heels.

"If everyone would take a seat," Dumbledore instructed as he crossed into the center of the room, "we can begin."

A small amount of grumbling could be heard as the gathered Order members found their seats.

"I take it you all have read yesterday's _Prophet_," he surmised a moment later. "It is because of this that I have asked you all here today. In addition, as our discussion will have a significant impact upon Miss Granger's life, I felt it only fair that she be present for our emergency meeting even though she is not an inducted member of the Order.

"That being said, I think it first must be shared that Rita Skeeter has successfully been taken into Order protection just hours before Tom Riddle ordered her death."

Molly Weasley gave a soft gasp, while the others bore varying expressions of relief and utter disappointment.

"A bloody shame," Fred whispered to his twin, who smiled and nodded.

"Unfortunately not before she could submit her latest story, however," Snape sneered, dropping the folded newspaper onto the floor.

"Yes, unfortunate," Dumbledore nodded. "Though even more unfortunate are the consequences it shall mean for those involved."

"Well, what are we going to do about it?" Minerva queried.

The Headmaster bowed his head slightly and folded his arms behind his back. "Our present choices are limited, I fear."

"Limited?" Arthur repeated.

McGonagall frowned. "Clearly we have to do what we can to combat these ridiculous allegations!"

Albus sighed softly and shook his head, much to the surprise of nearly everyone gathered. Only Snape and Kingsley remained straight-faced.

"What does _that_ mean?"

He thinned his lips and took on a sober expression. "It means that the best option we have is to not deny anything."

"WHAT?"

The Headmaster nodded his head in understanding as half a dozen voices cried out in unison.

"You _cannot_ be serious!" Minerva hissed.

"It is with a heavy heart that I must confess I am entirely serious," Dumbledore answered. "Fighting these charges will result in more negative exposure than positive. It will not do us any service to have our spy's every movement scrutinized by the press."

"Got something to hide, does he?" Moody interrupted with a distrustful glance in Snape's direction.

"Alastor," the Headmaster warned. "For once, Tom and I are in agreement. Severus cannot continue his duties if the public is watching him with suspicion. If we combat this, we will forfeit all inside information from the Death Eaters."

Hermione closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. Tears were already beginning to sting her eyes as she listened. Everything had gone horribly wrong, and it was partly her fault. She should have just let Harry do the interview. She had only meant to spare her best friend from another batch of ridicule, but had instead risked the entire outcome of the war. Glancing about the room, she noted the ashen faces of the other members – even Sirius looked troubled – and she knew that everyone had realized that losing their spy would equate with losing the war.

"So you're suggesting we just wait for the fervor to die down?" Remus asked.

"If we do that, Snape will still be out of commission until it does," Moody grunted, folding his arms to his chest. "And there'll be the investigations. Who knows when it will pass out of the public eye?"

"Sounds like lose-lose to me," Sirius stated. "Perhaps we should just cut our losses and get a new spy."

"And just how do you suggest we go about that?" Tonks snapped. "Put up a notice in the Three Broomsticks? Seeking spy, inquire within?"

The curly-haired man glared at his cousin, but kept quiet.

Arthur Weasley glanced uneasily towards the girl on the couch and then to the elder wizard. "What are you suggesting then, Albus?"

A tense silence descended upon the room and nearly everyone looked to the Headmaster expectantly.

"We take control of the story," he said with confidence. "We need the tide of public sentiment to be with us."

Minerva quirked an eyebrow. "And exactly _how_ do you suggest we do that?"

"We let it be known that our Severus and Hermione are in love."


	4. Consequences

**A/N: A fast update for you, though it will be some time before I can do so again. For those of you reading Bound to Him, I doubt I will get the next update written this week. In addition to the family reunion we're having this weekend, work is really hectic and I will be spending many hours cramming in data-crunching. We're presenting our research at a national conference next week. Needless to say, we're busy! Thanks so much for your understanding and patience!  
**

**Thanks for the reviews! Awesomeness equals omateido, snapefan520, gossipgirly222, Golfbabe87, bournespeed, JenniferLupinBlack, mairamout, duj, Petite Mule, JeniDRalph, timandsophsmom, Annbella, Hajnalmadar, callalily32, Roberly, knitchick, IHeartBranson, whenthesnowmelts, Sniffles 55, DedicatedReader, Lyra Lupin, Eleantris, Coolnetta, Startled Boris, xSeverusxCrookshanksx, Lonely Road, and each of the unsigned reviewers!  
**

* * *

**Chapter 4: Consequences  
**

"LOVE?"

The girl's eyes widened and her mouth dropped in shock. Ignoring everyone else's outbursts, she turned and glared at Snape over Tonks's head. "_This_ is what you meant by 'circumstances have changed'?"

Severus closed his eyes for a second and nodded.

Hermione gave a pained whimper and hid her face behind her hands.

"Love?" Moody shouted over the uproar. "You think it wise for a Death Eater to be _in love_ with a Muggleborn?"

"In this instance, I do," Dumbledore nodded. "Riddle has already given his blessings to the arrangement and has guaranteed her safety in that situation."

"Oh, if You-Know-Who supports it, it must be a fantastic idea," Sirius snarled. "I'm all for it! Sign me up."

"Everyone SHUT UP!"

Silence befell the angered Order members as they all turned to stare at Tonks, who then wrinkled her nose and cleared her throat. "No offense sir, but if we're looking to get public opinion _on_ their side, how do we do that with a 'forbidden romance'? It sells newspapers, but it isn't generally well-accepted in any society."

"Excellent question, my dear girl," Dumbledore twinkled. "And one that had Severus, Kingsley, and myself stumped for a better part of the night."

McGonagall glared at the Potions Master. "You knew this all along."

"It wasn't his place to tell, Minerva," the elder wizard responded. "I instructed Severus to remain silent on the topic until it could be safely discussed outside of the castle."

Hermione sighed and slipped a slightly apologetic glance towards her Potions professor. That would explain both his refusal to answer her question and his ill temper that morning. Of course he was always ill-tempered, but she suspected he was not looking forward to pretending to be in love any more than she was. A nauseating sensation washed over her as she realized that Tonks was right. It could not be as easy as that – no one would accept a teacher-student relationship as a good thing, regardless of whether or not they _were_ in love.

Arthur was frowning and crossed his arms. "Was a decision reached then? Or are we here to figure out the story ourselves?"

Hermione glanced at the man she considered a second father and wished desperately that he did not believe her to be capable of what Rita Skeeter had written. He caught her gaze for half a second, and when his disapproving stare softened a bit, she allowed herself an inkling of hope that he was not as easily swayed by the media as his wife was. She gave a sad look towards the plump witch beside him and sighed softly when she realized that Molly was still refusing to meet her eyes.

"We have devised a plausible explanation, yes," Dumbledore smiled. "One that has everything to do with _Corazón Verdadero_."

"Cora – what?" Sirius grunted.

"_Corazón Verdadero_," Fred supplied helpfully, leaning forward and receiving a small glare from the man in return.

"Am I supposed to know what that is?" he growled.

"It means 'true heart'," George, Remus, and Tonks answered nearly simultaneously.

"Fantastic," Sirius muttered. "Now what the hell is it?"

"It's a potion, you ignorant buffoon," Snape snarled, earning a snort from the pink-haired witch beside him.

"Thank you, Severus," Dumbledore said, interrupting Sirius's retort. "It _is_ a potion. More importantly, it's a potion that is said to reveal your truest love."

Hermione wrinkled her forehead as she tried to remember where she had seen the name before.

"You may recognize it from _Moste Potente Potions_, Miss Granger," the Headmaster said with a wink.

She glanced up in surprise, but nodded quietly. She could see it now in her head. It had been a few pages away from the Polyjuice Potion entry, and had looked to be nearly a Masters-level brew. If she had remembered correctly, it had called for a significant contribution of the imbiber's blood and required a complicated series of wandwork that had been illustrated upon the pages.

"You're suggesting we say that Professor Snape spends his free time locked away in his classroom trying to determine his soul mate?" Tonks asked, her eyebrow raised in disbelief.

"Sounds just desperate and creepy enough for him," Sirirus muttered, causing Severus to roll his eyes.

"Quite the opposite, actually," Dumbledore answered. "I think it more believable to have Miss Granger do the brewing. It's been my understanding that young women are rather fond of the notion of finding true love."

This time it was Hermione and Tonks who rolled their eyes.

"And you think Granger competent enough to brew such a complicated potion?" Moody asked, narrowing his good eye at the girl, as if he could tell her level of skill by staring at her. Hermione shifted uncomfortably and stared at the arm of the couch.

"Yes, I find I do," Albus chuckled. "As Severus can attest, she has quite the penchant for potions."

"And thievery," Snape added, folding his arms and giving the girl an accusatory stare.

"She brewed Polyjuice as a second year," George grinned.

Hermione's gaze snapped to him in surprise.

Fred laughed. "Ickle Ronnie-kins isn't very good at keeping secrets."

Moody flicked his gaze towards Snape. "You let a second-year brew a NEWT-level potion? Not very responsible of you, Professor."

"Let?" Severus sneered. "I didn't _let_ her do anything. She and her little friends pilfered my supplies and hid everything in the girls' lavatory. I wouldn't even begin to imagine how she managed to get that book out of the Restricted Section."

"Rule stickler, eh?" Molly huffed with a glare at her sons, who then shrugged and gave the girl matching looks of sympathy.

Hermione blushed in shame and closed her eyes to the handful of stares she received. "I didn't _steal_ it, Professor. I had permission."

"Permission from whom?"

She winced and dropped her voice to barely above a whisper. "Lockhart."

A chorus of snorts echoed through the room and Snape looked at the ceiling in disgust. "That man would have given you permission to visit Azkaban if you only had complimented his hair."

"No worries of that happening to you, then," Sirius smirked.

"Pot calling the kettle _Black_," Severus returned, narrowing his eyes. "At least I've never taken hair-styling tips from dementors."

A spark of rage flared in the other man's eyes, but Remus managed to keep him in his seat. Growling, Sirius spat, "No, just your fashion sense."

With a whimper, Hermione slid farther into the couch. With a small smile Tonks nudged her in the arm. "Don't worry about it, love. Every meeting goes this way."

"That isn't exactly reassuring," Hermione muttered, sitting up again.

"Not exactly reassuring, no," Tonks agreed with a shrug. "Entertaining, though. At least until we have to physically separate them."

"Been there. Done that," the younger witch sighed.

"And I missed it? Damn."

"Are you two finished?" Snape interrupted.

Tonks glanced over at him with narrowed eyes. "Are _you_ two finished?"

"Now that you're _all_ finished, I suggest we get this nonsense out of the way," Moody grumbled.

"Thank you, Alastor," Dumbledore nodded before continuing with his explanation. "For those of you unfamiliar with it, the _Corazón Verdadero_ was secretly developed for the Aragonese monarch Peter the First, who was unhappy with his betrothed, Agnes of Aquitaine. After consulting with one of his advisors, he commissioned an apothecary to develop a way to find his one true love. After three years of his marriage had already expired, the _Corazón_ _Verdadero_ was completed in 1097 and presented to Peter, who eagerly imbibed it. As was explained by the apothecary, his dreams and thoughts were said to be consumed by the image of an unknown woman. He could not rest for he was driven nearly insane by the need to find her. Fortunately, she was soon discovered to be one of the servants in the kitchens, known only by her given name of Bertha. At this time, Peter had his first wife poisoned, and soon after married in his true heart."

"Well, there's a cheery story," George snickered.

"And will our lovely Hermione be poisoning anyone today?" Fred grinned.

"I don't think she needs to, Fred."

"Quite right, George. Not unless someone's standing in between her and Snape's knickers."

"Wouldn't wanna be _that_ guy," George responded, grinning wickedly at the gasp that had escaped the young Gryffindor witch.

"Boys!" Arthur shouted, while his wife spun around in her seat.

Molly narrowed her eyes at the twins. "If the two of you don't pipe down, _I_ will poison the both of you!"

"Such a lovely woman," Fred whispered to his twin.

"Caring _and_ considerate," George nodded.

Moody scowled at the redheaded twins and then leaned heavily on his walking stick as he glanced between the impassive face of the Potions Master and the beet-red face of the current Head Girl. He let out a small grunt before turning back to the Headmaster. "And you think the two of them will pass for soul mates?"

"Impossible," Sirius grumbled.

"Nothing's impossible," Remus shrugged.

"What? Don't tell me _you_ agree with this, Moony!"

"I didn't say I agreed with it," he clarified. "I'm just saying that we can't label it impossible. Everyone thought it impossible to live with a werewolf until someone developed the Wolfsbane potion. Everyone thought it impossible to survive the Killing Curse until Harry did."

"That's completely beside the point! This is Hermione and _Snivellus_ we're discussing!"

"Sirius, stop being unreasonable," Minerva grumbled.

"Unreasonable?" he shouted. "This whole _thing_ is unreasonable! You can't _not_ find it unreasonable, Professor!"

McGonagall took in a deep breath and turned her attention to the couch. "Severus, you were summoned last night, were you not?"

He raised one eyebrow and nodded stiffly.

"And what was You-Know-Who's reaction to the article?"

Snape glanced towards Dumbledore, who nodded. Turning back to the Deputy Headmistress, he cleared his throat. "Well, he had every intention of killing me right there until I proved to him that it was a lie."

"Proved it, did you?" Sirius sneered. "You lie to him about everything else…supposedly."

"Sirius!" Dumbledore and McGonagall warned in unison.

"What's to say he didn't just lie about this, too?" Black said, gesturing between Snape and Hermione.

"Oi!" George shouted while Fred smacked the man on the back of the head. "That's our honorary little sister you're talking about."

Sirius winced visibly as his head was still sore from when Snape had unceremoniously dumped him on the floor. "Well I wouldn't put it past _him_ not to have influenced her in some way."

Hermione's jaw dropped and she launched out of her seat. "_He_ never touched me, you arse! This isn't _his_ fault! This whole thing is because Rita Skeeter has a vendetta against _me_! If anyone here is at fault, it's _me_!"

"Hermione, no one is blaming you," Arthur commented gently.

"No, they're not!" she hissed, keeping her eyes on Sirius and gesturing to Snape. "They're blaming _him_, and he didn't do anything!"

"So he says," Sirius muttered.

"So I say!" she countered angrily. "If you don't believe that I'm telling the truth, then give me Veritaserum!"

"Not if he brewed it."

Hermione moved to take a step towards him, but was restrained by Tonks, who had leapt up from the couch. As the Auror pulled the girl back to the couch, Minerva stood from her chair. "Sirius, I'm two seconds away from banishing you from your own house. I would advise you to keep your mouth shut from here on out."

The Marauder huffed angrily, but said nothing else.

"Severus, if you would please," Kingsley finally spoke in a booming voice. "I would like to hear the rest of what happened with You-Know-Who."

Several heads nodded, and Snape launched into a summary of what had occurred the night before. By the time he had finished, a few faces had paled while Sirius pouted in his chair.

"Reading between the lines, then, would it be safe to assume her life is in danger if she is not – as he said – attached to you?" Kingsley asked with a sober look on his face.

The Potions Master sighed and dipped his head. "I do not think that an unfair assumption."

Hermione gulped and, when Tonks loosened her grip, sunk back onto the sofa. All of the air had escaped from her anger as she listened to them discuss the likelihood that she would become a target. In all of the clamor of the past day, she not once considered that Voldemort would try to have her killed. Professor Snape she had worried about, but not herself.

"You alright?" Tonks whispered.

The younger witch swallowed and nodded slowly.

"If the threat to her safety is legitimate," Minerva stated boldly with a glare to Sirius, "then I don't find this at all _unreasonable_."

Hermione glanced up and was rather surprised to see everyone nodding – save for Sirius. The sullen wizard, however, _was_ looking rather defeated as he bitterly stared at the fraying carpet.

"Then we are all in agreement," Dumbledore stated, which was followed by another round of nods.

"Erm, Professor?" Hermione asked softly. She chewed on her lip as the Headmaster gestured for her to continue. "Even if Professor Snape and I are to pretend to be soul mates, how does this solve our publicity problem? I mean, we would still have been engaging in an illegal relationship, right?"

"That is a fair question, Miss Granger," he nodded with a smile. "I sometimes forget that with how adept you are with magic, that you have not grown up in the Wizarding World."

She narrowed her eyes in confusion and noticed that everyone except for Snape was glancing at her with sympathy. Feeling self-conscious, she fidgeted in her seat and returned her eyes to the middle of the room.

Kingsley cleared his throat. "While in the Muggle world, the term 'soul mate' is an abstract idea, in the Wizarding World it is taken quite seriously. Though rarely ever found, soul mates share a bond between them which is a form of what we call Pink Magic – or Love Magic, if you will. Pink Magic, though not understood, is one of the most powerful forms of magic. The protection on Harry is one such example of Pink Magic – Lily Potter sacrificed herself to save him, which enacted it, and it was powerful enough to deflect the Killing Curse of one of the most powerful dark wizards of all time."

Hermione let out a deep breath and scrunched up her face in disbelief. "So you're saying that they'll all just give us a pass on the whole thing because we're supposedly soul mates?"

Dumbledore chuckled softly and smiled. "The Wizarding World does understand the pull of Pink Magic, undoubtedly, but you are right, my dear. The public will certainly be more forgiving if we submit to expectations."

"Expectations?" she repeated nervously. Her anxiety doubled when she glanced at Snape and noted that he had closed his eyes and bore a pained expression on his face. When Tonks grabbed hold of her hand, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

"As I mentioned previously, the consequences are unfortunate," Albus said with a duck of his head.

"What consequences?" Her voice squeaked, and Tonks tightened the grip on her hand.

The Headmaster's face became somber and his eyes were sad as they met hers. "You and Severus must marry."

"What?" The girl's eyes widened into saucers as she glanced desperately about the room. When no one else raised an objection, she looked to Professor Snape once again. His eyes had yet to open – one could mistake him for having fallen asleep, had he not looked as though he had just swallowed a mouthful of glass. "You're all _joking_! This isn't funny!"

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Remus sighed. "But we aren't."

"I'm not just in love with him, but I have to _marry_ him?" she screeched.

The Order members nervously glanced amongst each other. After a few seconds, Arthur cleared his throat and leaned forward. "You have to understand Hermione – the Wizarding World is not like the Muggle one. Sexual relations outside of marriage are frowned upon, and if we wish to avoid a negative public sentiment as we do, it is the only option."

"But we haven't –"

"I know you haven't." The Weasley patriarch shook his head, glancing pointedly at his wife, who finally had the decency enough to look ashamed. "But the two of you will be posing as soul mates. The pull of that type of magic most definitely requires a physical relationship as much as it does a spiritual one."

Hermione let out a sad sob and collapsed against the couch. "So in order to keep myself alive and keep Professor Snape spying, the only option is marriage?"

When no one said anything, she blew out a breath and stared at the ceiling. "Well, this ought to make the rest of the school year completely unbearable."

Dumbledore sighed. "I'm afraid I'm not quite through."

Her gaze snapped to him immediately. "What? Am I supposed to bear him children now, too?"

"No."

The strength of Snape's voice caused nearly everyone to startle. After looking at him, Hermione swallowed nervously and glanced back to the Headmaster.

"In order to eliminate claims of partiality on the part of Professor Snape, you will be required to withdraw from Potions," Dumbledore explained.

Her stomach dropped another notch and she took in a slow breath. "Will I at least be able to take the Potions NEWT at the end of the year?"

The elder wizard paused and shook his head sadly. "It is entirely likely that you will be unable to sit the NEWTs at all."

"WHAT?"

"Albus," Minerva interrupted. "That seems a bit harsh."

"I could not agree more," he nodded, turning back to the girl, "but the fact remains that the fate of your continued enrollment rests solely in the hands of the Board of Governors, a number of whom – as Severus has informed me – are in the pocketbook of Lucius Malfoy. I am confident that I can convince them to let you remain as a student and graduate with the rest of your class, however, they will likely demand a concession on your part regarding the NEWTs."

"Because I'm not making any concessions already," she spat bitterly. She yanked her hand out of Tonks's and covered her face with both hands. "Is that it? Or will I be required to concede my left arm as well? Perhaps my first-born child?"

The corners of Dumbledore's lips turned upwards for a moment before he became straight-faced once again. "In regards to this arrangement, I do believe your limbs and future children will be safe. Your position as Head Girl, on the other hand –"

"Oh, of course I'll have to resign," she interrupted irritably, her hands immediately flying to her chest where the shiny badge was still pinned to her robes. After quickly unfastening it, she tossed it onto the floor and stood from the couch. "Gee, why didn't _I_ think of that before I started fucking my professor!"

Without another word, she strode angrily from the room and disappeared down the hallway.

Collectively, the group took in a deep breath and stared at the badge lying in the middle of the room.

"Well, I guess Rita's lucky she's in protection already," Fred mumbled a few minutes later, "because if You-Know-Who wouldn't have killed her, Hermione certainly would have."

* * *

A short while later, Tonks climbed the stairs to the third floor where she knew Hermione usually shared a bedroom with Ginny Weasley. Finding the door closed, she knocked and waited for a response. When none came, she knocked again.

"Hermione, love, are you in there?" she asked, placing one hand on the door knob. Leaning against the door, she could hear the muffled sound of tears from within the room. "I'm coming in, alright?"

As she entered the dark room, Tonks quietly closed the door behind her and crossed over to the window. Pulling back the drab curtains, she winced slightly as the bright sunlight spilled into the room. As she turned around, she frowned at the sight of the girl lying face down on one of the beds, sobbing.

With a sigh, the pink-haired witch crossed to the bed and sat down beside the girl. Frankly, tears made her nervous – which is why she had become an Auror and not a Healer – but she knew that Hermione needed someone on her side, and no one else had yet made the effort to go after her. Not that many of them would be well-received, but that was understandable given the circumstances.

Hesitantly, she placed a hand on the girl's head and stroked her hair. "I'm really sorry, Hermione. You don't deserve any of this."

When she was met only with continued tears, Tonks sighed and stared at the wall. Her mother had always said that she was not nurturing enough, and she was beginning to agree. Wrinkling her nose, she glanced back down at the witch beside her. Maybe time was best.

Resigning herself to guard duty, she placed her hand on Hermione's shoulder and stared off into space. After several minutes, the girl quieted her cries and shifted beneath her hand.

With a sigh, Hermione rolled onto her back and pulled herself into a seated position. She wiped at the tears running down her face. "Sorry. I shouldn't have lost it like that."

Tonks raised her eyebrows. "Don't apologize to me. I'm the one who is completely at a loss here. I mean, I could toss myself down a flight of stairs if that would cheer you up."

The girl giggled a few times and shook her head. "I wouldn't want to trouble you."

The older witch smiled. "No trouble at all, I swear. I do it enough on my own anyway. Besides, what's a few bruises amongst friends, right?"

Hermione laughed and wiped again at her eyes. "Can I hug you instead?"

"I dunno, can you?" Tonks grinned before opening her arms. "Of course you can, love. And it's completely on the house this time."

The younger girl smiled briefly and wrapped her arms around the slim Auror. As the seconds ticked by, she showed no signs of letting loose. Though mildly uncomfortable, Tonks relaxed her body and patted her on the back.

"You all must think I'm a horrible person," Hermione mumbled into her shoulder.

The pink-haired woman wrinkled her brow. "Why would we think that?"

"It's pretty selfish of me to complain about a stupid test when the entire war is on the line."

"No, it's not," Tonks shook her head. "It's not just a test, is it? I mean, we're practically asking you to sacrifice your entire future. A meltdown is entirely expected in that situation."

The bushy-haired girl groaned and felt a new round of tears coming on quickly. "I shouldn't have yelled so much and…oh, Merlin. Professor Snape must hate me now. I didn't mean to imply… I mean, it's basically his life on the line, and I was complaining about not being Head Girl."

"You know, I don't think he took it that way at all. This was all dropped in your lap rather suddenly, and I think he understands that. I highly doubt he took it personally."

Hermione sniffled and buried her face in Tonks's robes. "But it's my fault that all of this happened. It's my fault that he has to marry me. He must hate me for that."

Tonks sighed and tilted her head in contemplation. "I don't know that that's true. From what he said at the meeting, at this time yesterday, he was facing the probability of death. Today, he's not. I think he'd much prefer marrying you than being murdered in the middle of a pack of Death Eaters."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," she moaned miserably.

The older woman snorted. "Now you're just being ridiculous, Granger."

At the sound of a knock, they both looked towards the door. Cautiously, Molly Weasley pushed open the door and peered into the room.

"How are you holding up, Hermione?" she asked with a look of genuine concern on her face.

The girl sucked in a deep breath and pulled away from Tonks. Wiping her eyes, she swallowed nervously and shrugged her shoulders.

Molly let out a sad sigh and nodded, closing the door behind her. Shooing the Auror out of the way, she took a seat next to Hermione and pulled her into an embrace. "I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am that I ever doubted you. You're as good as a daughter to me, and I foolishly took that horrible woman's word over yours. I'm ashamed of how childish my behavior was towards you. Arthur and the boys are right – I should never have treated you that way."

Hermione looked up at her with teary eyes. "I was never _with_ Harry – not then, not now, not ever. We're friends and I would never try to hurt him. I'm in this whole mess now because I only wanted to spare him humiliation."

"I'm sorry," the woman nodded, closing her eyes. "I should not have jumped to conclusions."

"And I was only with Viktor Krum for the Yule Ball, because _he_ asked _me_," she continued. "We danced, he kissed me on the cheek, and that was _it_! He was interested in more, but I wasn't. I was fifteen – I didn't want a boyfriend then. I don't even know if I'd want one now.

"And I never slept with Professor Snape! I don't even see him outside of class or meals, for Merlin's sake. I can't believe that you would think me capable of that!"

"I know, dear," Molly whispered, smoothing her hand over the girl's hair. "I am so sorry. I don't know why I did – I guess I just didn't think Rita Skeeter was capable of completely fabricating a story like that. Blowing things out of proportion, maybe, but most times there's a grain of truth hidden in it. I was scared that it _was_ true – scared that the little girl I watched grow into a competent witch could have found the wrong path."

"But I didn't!" Hermione pulled away from her and folded her arms against her chest. "I didn't do any of those things she said – _ever_! And it wasn't enough that you didn't believe me the first time, but you condemned me for the second time as well! I _never_ slept with Harry! I _never_ slept with Viktor! I _never_ slept with Professor Snape! I never slept with _anybody_! In fact, the only person I've ever kissed was George, and that was only because Fred trapped us under the mistletoe last Christmas! And yet you still see me as some sort of scarlet woman!"

Mrs. Weasley dropped her gaze to her lap and nodded in shame. "I will understand if you cannot see it in your heart to forgive me."

"What does it matter, anyway?" Hermione sighed, flopping backwards onto the mattress. "Everyone's going to hate me now, so it's not like it actually matters if I forgive you or not."

"They're not going to hate you," Molly said softly.

"No?" Hermione propped herself up on her elbows. "I'm marrying the dreaded Dungeon Bat! I'm practically admitting to the entire Wizarding World that I've been carrying on in inappropriate liaisons with my professor while still sitting his class! Everything you read in that article, they're going to think is true! Even Ron and Harry are going to hate me when I tell them that I'll soon be changing my last name!"

"Ron and Harry won't hate you," she responded. "You're their friend."

"Oh, so they'll only hate my husband, then. How lucky for me." As soon as she realized what she said, Hermione grimaced and curled into a ball. She was going to have to marry Professor Snape of all people. She was going to be Mrs. Dreaded Dungeon Bat.

Molly sighed and shared a look with Tonks, who had since seated herself on the other bed. No one spoke for several minutes until a soft knock interrupted the silence. The young Auror pulled open the door to reveal a troubled McGonagall.

"Is she doing alright?"

"Better than I would have expected," Tonks answered truthfully.

Minerva nodded as she stepped in the room and glanced at the Weasley matron, who gave a sad smile as she gently stroked Hermione's back. "Albus thought you needed help in trying to convince her to accept the arrangement, and so that is exactly what I am doing."

The pink-haired witch let out a soft chuckle as she watched the Deputy Headmistress plop down on the extra bed and cross her arms defiantly.

"Your argument is extraordinarily convincing, Professor," Tonks giggled as she sat down beside her. "Why, I profess I find my own self quite willing to run down there and leap into his waiting arms and have him carry me off into the sunset."

The elder witch raised her eyebrows. "From the way you were behaving down there, I don't think it would take much convincing on my part at all."

Tonks snorted loudly and let a wicked grin cross her face. "After seven years of daily torment from that man, you have no idea how enjoyable it is to make him squirm now."

Minerva let out a hearty chuckle. "I had nearly forgotten how much you vexed him as a student. He thought you were surely sent by the gods to punish him. I daresay poor Pomona never heard the end of it."

"She did look rather perturbed when I refused to give up on becoming an Auror." A look of reminiscence was painted on her face as she shook her head good-naturedly. "Always volunteering alternative career paths that didn't require a Potions NEWT."

The older woman nodded slightly. "Oh, you should have seen Severus on the day he found out that you had earned an 'O' on your Potions OWL!"

The Auror's eyes grew bright as she laughed. "I've always suspected he must've about shat himself that day!"

Molly shot the pair a chastising glance as their laughter grew louder. When movement occurred beneath her hand, however, she looked down in surprise to see Hermione rolling over and pushing herself into a seated position.

"Professor Snape hated you that much?" she asked, wiping her face.

Tonks shared a look with the Deputy Headmistress and then nodded emphatically at Hermione. "The very first day he allowed us to enter his storeroom unsupervised, I tripped over Michael McDougan's foot and took out four shelves' worth of ingredients on my way down."

The girl slapped a hand over her mouth as her eyes widened. "Oh, my god – you didn't!"

"Oh, she did," Minerva said seriously. "I thought for sure he was going to turn inside out that day. If Albus hadn't have spoken to him, I'm sure he was two seconds away from resigning his post."

Hermione began to laugh softly and pulled her knees to her chest. "How are you even alive after that?"

The pink-haired witch shrugged her shoulders. "Great restraint on his part, I'm sure. Needless to say, I've been banned from his storerooms for life, which meant that I had to beg my classmates to get my ingredients for me for the next six and a half years, at a loss of five points each lesson for speaking out of turn. I swear, if I hadn't have been placed in Hufflepuff, my Housemates would have chucked me out in the cold faster than you could say You-Know-Who."

Shaking her head, Hermione let out a long breath. "And he still lets you speak to him now?"

"He does, indeed," Tonks nodded. "Which is why I know you're being ridiculous."

The two older women looked confusedly between the two, and the Auror gestured to Hermione with her head. "She thinks that her hubby-to-be is going to hate her for creating the situation in which he is forced to be her hubby-to-be."

Molly wrapped her arms around the girl supportively, while McGonagall fixed her with a pointed stare. "Don't be ridiculous, Miss Granger. Severus may be a hard man, but he will not hate you for something out of your control."

"He hates Harry."

Minerva and Molly exchanged a look and sighed in unison, "That's different."

"_How_ is it different?"

The Head of Gryffindor let out a deep breath. "It's not our story to tell."

"You'll just have to take our word on it," Mrs. Weasley said softly as she tucked a strand of hair behind the girl's ear.

Hermione frowned, but opted not to press the issue further.

"Furthermore," McGonagall smiled, "out of all those men downstairs, Severus was only one who worked it out that the reason you ran from the room was not because you are refusing the arrangement, but was instead because you had already accepted it."

"What?" A horrified expression crossed the girl's face. "They all think that I…that I would put myself above everyone else? They _all_ think that? Even Professor Dumbledore?"

She paused only long enough to glance at Tonks. "I _told_ you everyone thinks I'm a horrible person!"

The elder women were opening their mouths to offer kind words in response, but were cut off by an exasperated Auror.

"Oi!" Tonks shouted, the tips of her hair darkening. "Now look here, love! If we all thought you were a horrible person, we wouldn't be concocting this whole sodding romance novel! Instead, we would confirm the rumors of love potions and _Confundus_ charms, offer up Professor Snape as a poor, innocent victim, and ship you off to spend the rest of your days locked up with that Skeeter bint! But we don't, so we haven't!

"And so what if they all _do_ think you'd refuse him? It doesn't mean they think you're a horrible person! It means they know you're facing a difficult situation, and it means they think you're a defenseless little girl! You want to know why I know this? Because you have tits; because you can cry; because they're MEN! They're planning a war down there, and I hate to break it to you, Granger, but they don't always use their big brains for it!

"So stop your blubbering, dry your eyes, march down there, and show them that you're the strong woman _we_—" she gestured to each of the witches in the room " – know you are! Tell them that you'd love for nothing more than to become the new Mrs. Snape, and then take a page out of your betrothed's book and don't take shit from nobody! Understand?"

Three pairs of large eyes stared back at the normally bubbly Auror. Hermione's eyes were wide with shock; Molly's with censure; and Minerva's with amusement. After a few seconds, Hermione began to nod and hesitantly stood from the bed. She let out a deep breath and met the witch's eyes.

"I can do this, can't I?"

Tonks smiled and nodded. "You sure as bloody hell can!"

"Okay," Hermione sighed.

"Brilliant!" The pink-haired Auror positively beamed as she launched up to pull open the door. Hermione gave her a grateful look before passing into the hallway. Mrs. Weasley's eyes tightened with a mix of disbelief and disapproval as she followed closely behind the girl.

"Not the most eloquent speech I've heard, but definitely effective," McGonagall smirked.

Tonks shrugged as they followed the other two witches down the staircase. "I didn't get through Auror training just on my looks, you know."

"Apparently not," Minerva smiled.

As the four of them reached the ground floor, Hermione paused outside of the library. She took in a calming breath and waited for the others to walk ahead of her before entering the room. When the women returned, the conversation in the room faded into silence.

"Ah," Dumbledore smiled. "I take it from Miss Granger's presence that an agreement has finally been reached?"

Hermione scowled at him, which prompted Minerva to speak in her stead. "Albus – there never was any question of her involvement."

"No?" he queried, glancing at the girl.

"No," the young witch answered before glancing about the room. Everyone met her with looks of approval, save for Sirius, who was still sullenly staring at the floor. When her eyes fell upon the empty sofa, she sighed worriedly and looked back to the Headmaster. "Erm, where's Professor Snape?"

Dumbledore met her questioning gaze with a full-fledged smile. "It is customary in the Wizarding World for the bridegroom to be separated from his bride for a period of twenty-four hours prior to the ceremony. To make the heart grow fonder while preparing for the union, I do believe."

"Oh," she whispered, before her eyes suddenly widened. "We're getting married _tomorrow_?"


	5. The Big Day

**A/N: Finally got something typed up for you all! For those of you who expressed interest in what I'm currently researching - we're working on categorizing undergraduate biology and biochemistry textbook figures basically to determine why students are not prepared to analyze and understand expert visualizations in scientific journals when they reach graduate school.  
**

**Thanks so much for the awesome reviews: JeniDRalph, Dentelle, whenthesnowmelts, callalily32, MidnightThief15, Excel Go Boom, ButterflyGirl89, wyndnfyr, mairamout, IHeartBranson, DedicatedReader, ousia, ptite mac, knitchick, Petite Mule, AllyZ, FutureMrsPeterFacinelli, notwritten, JenniferLupinBlack, Whimsical-notes, Eleantris, Lyra Lupin, Mel, Paige, WanderingMoon, paddiew, woodshark, BlooDsucKkerR69, Coolnetta, tennis14321432, vampirela69, weaselette01, and the guest reviewers!  
**

* * *

**Chapter 5: The Big Day  
**

"Wakie-wakie, lovebird!" Tonks crooned as she yanked back the dingy curtains.

Hermione groaned painfully at the intrusion upon her sleep and winced at the early sunbeams. Scowling, she reached for the second pillow and pulled it over her head.

"Nah-uh," the Auror smiled, yanking the pillow out of the girl's hands and smacking her with it. "The blushing bride needs to get her arse out of bed!"

When the girl refused to move still, another two whaps of the pillow followed.

"Rise and shine, love!"

With a loud yawn, Hermione sat up and wiped her eyes. "Okay, enough."

Tonks grinned wickedly and delivered another blow.

"Stop!" the younger girl cried, covering her head.

"Are you going to get up, then?"

"Yes!" she huffed, throwing back the covers and stepping onto the floor. "Do you know how early it is?"

"Aye!" Tonks tossed the pillow back onto the mattress and then followed the girl as she made her way towards the bathroom. "And you should be a bit more cheery, considering I've let you have a proper lie-in."

Hermione glanced up at the grotesque clock in the hallway and raised her eyebrow bitterly. "It's barely past seven. You consider that a proper lie-in?"

"Considering the majority of wizarding brides begin their preparations at dawn – yes, yes I do."

"Dawn?" she scoffed, pushing open the lavatory door. "Ugh. What is wrong with them?"

The pink-haired witch snickered as the door slammed shut in her face. "They're generally excited about their upcoming nuptials, now aren't they?"

"Well, if you're so bloody excited about it, why don't _you_ marry him?" came the muffled reply.

Tonks snorted and crossed her arms as she leaned against the door frame. "Would if I could, love, but that happy privilege rests solely with you!"

"Privilege?" Sirius sneered as he poked his head out of the master bedroom. "I think punishment is the word you're looking for."

Tonks rolled her eyes. "Why don't you go stick your nose where it's wanted? Up Remus's behind, perhaps?"

Her cousin scowled, muttering like his house elf as he slammed his door shut and stalked past her towards the staircase.

A few seconds later, Hermione pulled open the door and stared at her. "Now exactly what am I supposed to do?"

The Auror smiled. "Bath or breakfast first?"

"Erm," she nibbled on her bottom lip. "Breakfast, I think."

"A wise decision," Tonks winked as she directed the girl towards the stairs. "Molly's been cooking up her apologies for an hour already, and I'm starving."

As they stepped into the long, narrow kitchen, Hermione's eyebrows rose at the multitude of dishes on the table. Sirius, Remus, and Arthur were already tucking in, while Molly spun around with a second plate of bacon.

"Oh, there you are, dear," she smiled. "I didn't know what you'd like, so I made a bit of everything."

"It looks it," the girl stated, pulling up a seat next to Remus.

After a few minutes of only staring at her plate, Tonks sighed and started piling it full of food. Hermione made to protest the amount, but the Auror shook her head and smirked. "You could stand the calories, love. Trust me, you'll be burning them off tonight."

As Remus choked on his pumpkin juice, Sirius angrily tossed his fork down with a clatter and glared at the table. Arthur shifted nervously in his seat and glanced up at his wife who was slicing fruit with greater force than was necessary.

Blushing, Hermione began picking at her eggs. The only thing for which she was currently thankful was that the Weasley twins were still asleep upstairs. The rest of the meal could pass in awkward silence without any of their crude comments.

* * *

"I swear, I'm not peeking," Tonks snickered.

Hermione whimpered slightly and checked that the Auror's eyes were closed. Quickly stripping out of her pajamas, she hurried towards the tub and slipped into the hot water. "Okay, you can look now."

The pink-haired woman snorted and bent over to pick up the woven basket from the floor. "You know, you're going to have to get over some of that bashful-ness. I'm not sure Severus Snape will be as generous with you as I am."

"Would you stop, please?" the girl asked, her face flushing red as she covered herself in the tub.

"Sorry," Tonks muttered. "If you want, I can get Molly for this instead."

"No!"

"Alright then. You'll just have to deal with my observations," she smiled, taking a seat on a conjured bench. She pulled off the lid of the basket and picked up the first of many cloth bags. Loosening the drawstring, she glanced inside the bag and pulled out a handful of thin yellow petals.

Hermione watched curiously as the woman sprinkled them into the bath water. Upon seeing her expression, Tonks smiled and decided to offer an explanation. "Calendula, to bring you health and joy during your marriage."

The next bag contained a mixture of star-like white flowers and smaller purple petals. "Myrtle and Verbena, for fidelity, everlasting love, and marital bliss."

She then added two handfuls of herbs, followed by a smattering of tiny white flowers. "Thyme, for courage and strength – which, when marrying our dear professor, you will need. Sage, for domestic virtue and long life. Queen Anne's lace, for protection."

Hermione glanced at everything floating around her and then peered over the edge of the tub at the basket which contained several more satchels. She then watched as Tonks opened three of them and glanced thoughtfully into each. "What is it?"

"Oh, just deciding amongst the roses," she stated before nibbling on her bottom lip.

"You have to make a decision?"

The Auror nodded slowly. "Each one has its own meanings, and you don't wish to complicate the message. At least that's what I've been told."

"How do you know all of this?" Hermione asked, leaning her chin against the porcelain tub.

"I may not be one for the mushy stuff, but Mum certainly is. She's been enamored with the idea of love since she first started Hogwarts, which is why she set her cap at Da instead of marrying for stature like her sisters did. So, you can bet your arse she pushed all of this wedding and love nonsense at me since I've been in nappies. And for the past ten years, she's been rather obsessed with the idea of grandchildren."

"But you're only –"

"Twenty-four, I know," Tonks snorted.

Hermione shook her head. "That's a bit ridiculous, I think."

"Tell me about it." With a sigh, the woman picked up one of the bags. "I think white will be the best for you."

"What's it for?"

Tonks smiled slightly as she dusted the water with the roses. "Respect. Love. Unity. Innocence."

"And if it were you?" the girl queried with a look at the other two satchels of rose petals. "Which would you be?"

"That's easy – Pink. Beauty and grace are definitely two things I would need… in spades. I'd have to dump the whole bag in probably."

Hermione giggled and played with the nearest myrtle flower. "I think you're pretty – as does Ginny."

"Ah, but graceful, I think not."

The brunette bit her lip and smiled sheepishly.

"Red wouldn't be too bad either, though," Tonks spoke aloud as she reached for the next item. "Though I'd like to think passion and love would already be present in the relationship."

The younger witch smiled at her. "And _you_ said you're not one for the mushy stuff."

"Shut it," the Auror said quickly as she tossed in pink petals. "Carnations, for admiration and pureness in love."

"You do seem to be putting in a lot of love."

Before Hermione could even defend herself, the slender witch had grabbed hold of her head and shoved it beneath the water.

"Any more comments?'' Tonks asked after allowing her to re-emerge.

Coughing slightly, the girl laughed and shook her head. "I won't say anything else, I swear."

"Good, because there's still plenty of time for me to do away with you and assume your identity." The woman pulled open a satchel and then immediately closed it with a mischievous grin. "I think Severus would appreciate it if I leave out the False Unicorn."

"Why? What's it for?"

"Fertility," the Auror stated, waggling her eyebrows.

"Oh god. I think _I_ would appreciate it if you left that out."

"Perhaps," Tonks smirked as she began piling everything back into the basket. "For now."

Hermione's head shot up in response, and she narrowed her eyes as she sprayed the woman with a healthy dose of bath water. In an attempt to evade it, the pink-haired witch ended up falling off of her stool and landing sprawled out on the floor.

Laughing loudly, the Auror playfully wiped at herself. "Ugh! Don't get your marriage juice all over me!"

The Gryffindor dropped her jaw in mock indignation and scooped up another handful of water in order to further douse the witch.

"Do it, and I'll dump in the entire bag of fertility!" the Auror threatened with an extended pointed finger as she wielded the sack of False Unicorn in the other hand. She then picked herself up from the floor and tossed the last satchel into the basket before closing the lid. When Hermione snorted, she looked up with a raised eyebrow.

"Do you suppose that's what happened to Mrs. Weasley? They dumped in the whole bag?"

Tonks tilted her head back and laughed out loud.

* * *

Dumbledore lowered his wand as he watched the castle begin forming the new room. He turned slightly to glance at the silent Potions Master. "Are you certain this is the arrangement you desire?"

Severus flashed his employer a dark glare. "What is it exactly that you are insinuating?"

"Nothing, my dear boy," the elder wizard chuckled, holding up his hands defensively. "I do not believe your intentions are anything but honorable. I just wanted to determine if you were completely certain –"

"Of course I'm bloody certain!" The dark-haired man scowled at the cursed twinkling of the Headmaster's blue eyes.

As the castle finished its shifting and rumbling, Albus cleared his throat and smiled at his spy. "This is a happy day, Severus. It wouldn't physically harm you to loosen up a bit, as they say."

"Perhaps you should consult the dictionary, Headmaster, for I would not label the occasion as such."

"Planned or not, this marriage is still a marriage," Dumbledore winked. "One, I might add, that you agreed to without quarrel."

Snape deepened his frown and folded his arms against his chest. "I agreed to this sham in order to preserve my position with the Dark Lord and to keep the girl safe. I did not, in any stretch of the imagination, agree to it for the opportunity of periodically bedding a student."

The Headmaster sighed and nodded. "I do not believe otherwise, Severus, but you must remember that there is more to celebrate in a marriage than the physical consummation."

The younger wizard pinched the bridge of his nose. "Are you quite finished?"

"If you wish," he said softly, adjusting his robes. He pulled out a small, wooden box from a hidden pocket and presented it to the taller man. "Your rings."

Severus nodded slightly and took the proffered item. Upon propping open the box, he rolled his eyes. "An emerald in silver? For the bride of a Slytherin? How mind-numbingly original of you."

The old man's eyes were filled with mirth. "It just so happens that the emerald is the sacred stone of the goddess Venus –"

"Of course it is," Snape sneered in disgust.

"—and is said to represent love, hope, faithfulness, and wisdom. All of which are attributes that I believe are in your possession… as well as in the possession of your lovely, young bride."

The Potions Master let out a long-winded sigh and closed the ring box with a loud snap. "If that is all…"

"Of course," Albus grinned, locking his hands behind his back. "I shall leave you to your preparations, my boy."

* * *

"Ouch!" Hermione cried as the brush caught in her wet curls.

"Mmph… Sorry," Tonks mumbled from behind her. "You do realize how difficult your hair is, don't you?"

"Of course I – ouch—do!" she hissed grumpily. "Why do you think it always – ow – looks like it does?"

"Guess I've…never given it… much thought."

Hermione sighed and tried to ignore the tears forming in her eyes as the Auror pulled her hair one way and then the other. Eventually, she began to get a crick in her neck and had to lean her elbows on the vanity desk and support her head with both hands.

"This is so much easier… when it's my own hair," the woman muttered before letting out a muffled curse word.

"Well, considering you're a freaking _Metamorphmagus_, of course it is!"

Tonks snorted. "Are you always this punchy when preparing for a forced marriage?"

"I wouldn't know, would I? Seeing as this is my first such happy occasion." The girl then laughed slightly but winced as soon as another snarl of hair formed against the brush. Determined not to cry, she hid her face behind her hands and refused to look in the mirror.

"How is it coming along?" Mrs. Weasley asked, pushing open the door enough to peer into the bedroom. Upon catching sight of the two young women struggling, a concerned look crossed her face and she stepped into the room. "Oh dear. Here, let me handle that."

Blowing out a relieved breath, Tonks gladly handed off the brush and stepped back from the challenge. Shaking out her arms, she flopped backwards onto one of the beds.

Tutting softly, Molly gathered up the girl's damp curls in one hand and gently began working out the tangles. After a while, she had fixed the damage done by the young Auror and had tamed the mass into something manageable. When she reached for the bottle of Sleekeazy's and began the long process of sculpting the hair, Tonks propped herself up onto one elbow and watched in disbelief. Within half an hour, the Weasley matron let out a sigh of success and stepped away from the girl to examine it from all sides.

"I think that will do well," she boasted.

Hermione peeked through her fingers briefly at the mirror and then dropped her hand in shock. Somehow the woman had managed to smooth her bushy hair into an elegant and soft French twist. Holding her breath, she lightly patted at the back of her head and smiled at the feeling of the curls, piled up and secured. "Mrs. Weasley, it's –"

"A fecking miracle," Tonks interrupted.

The girl giggled, but nodded in agreement. Without a further thought, she launched out of her chair and embraced the woman tightly. Molly chuckled softly as she returned the hug and then placed a kiss on the girl's forehead.

"I may not fully agree with this," she said, pulling back enough to stare into Hermione's eyes, "but every bride deserves to stun the hell out of their groom – even if he is Severus Snape."

"Hear, hear!" Tonks shouted.

Hermione smiled and suddenly found herself fighting back tears. Inhaling deeply, she willed them not to fall and then turned to stare at her reflection in the mirror again. Her hair was absolutely amazing, and she actually thought herself pretty, even if she was only wrapped in a towel.

"Oh god," she whispered fearfully before turning to face the two women. "What am I going to do about a dress? I don't have anything to wear to a wedding!"

Molly patted her on the arm and smiled. "Minerva's taking care of that for you. She should be here –"

"Right about now," McGonagall finished as she stepped into the room, carrying a small box. "Hermione, you look lovely, dear."

The girl gave half a smile and wrapped her arms around her waist.

"About time to get your dress figured out, wouldn't you say?" With a flick of her wand, Minerva enlarged the box to its full size and set it upon the bed. When she pulled off the lid, there was a collective gasp from the three women.

"It's absolutely gorgeous," Tonks whistled.

Molly looked at the older woman in awe. "Where did you ever find a dress like that on such short notice?"

The Scottish woman got a wistful look in her eye as she lovingly touched the lace. "The top shelf of my wardrobe, actually."

Hermione glanced up in surprise. "This is yours?"

"It is."

Tonks tilted her head, a look of wonder on her face. "I didn't know you were ever married, Professor."

A hint of sadness appeared on the woman's face as she shook her head. "For a brief spell, I was, but not… well, not in this dress."

Upon noticing the others' suddenly contrite expressions, the Deputy Head cleared her throat and gave a tight smile. "It was a long time ago, and the dress doesn't belong hidden away for all of eternity. Forty-three years is long enough."

Hermione swallowed back emotion as she circled around the bed. "You're really letting me wear your dress?"

Minerva smiled and nodded. "It's not doing me any good, and I don't have any daughters of my own to pass it on to. Besides, I find myself rather fond of you, and Severus is as close to a son as I'll ever have. Tell him that, however, and there will be serious repercussions."

The girl covered her mouth with her hands, but could no longer hold back her tears. With a clucking noise, McGonagall pulled her into an embrace.

"It's not even a real wedding and yet I can't stop crying," she whimpered pitifully.

The elder witch smiled and patted her arm. "I think it perfectly acceptable, Miss Granger."

Hermione stepped back from her Head of House and wiped at her eyes. "It's the last time you get to call me that, I guess."

"I guess it is," she agreed, squeezing the girl's hand. "Now… How about you try it on and we'll see what needs to be altered."

The young Gryffindor nodded and stepped over to the box. Biting her lip, she delicately reached into the garment box and pulled out the ivory gown. The sleeveless bodice had a scooped neckline, and the entire dress was embroidered lace upon what looked like satin. The waist looked as though it were slightly fitted, while the full skirt flounced easily and had just the hint of a train. A long row of satin-covered buttons traced along the spine of the dress, from the high-back to just below the bodice.

"It's so beautiful," she whispered.

McGonagall stepped beside her and began unfastening the buttons. "We may have to shorten the skirt up a bit. I think I may have been a hair or two taller than you at the time. I found you a pair of heels, so maybe the length will be alright."

Hermione only nodded as she did not quite trust to use her voice any longer.

When the buttons had all been undone, Minerva held up the dress. "Time to part with the towel."

Blushing slightly, the girl dropped the towel and stood before them in only her knickers. With the elder witch's help, she stepped into the gown and then pulled it up into place.

"You were so slim, Professor," she grimaced while sucking in her stomach. "I don't think I'm going to fit."

McGonagall snorted softly as she attempted to pull the two sides together. "Well, who needs to eat when they've got love, eh? But yes, I think we may have to alter the waist a smidge."

Molly stepped forward and helped with the magical alterations until finally the dress was fully buttoned and Hermione was able to breathe easily.

"Well," the Gryffindor Head muttered, taking a step back to admire their work. "What do you think?"

"I think the professor's going to forget his own name when he sees you," the Auror grinned. Molly Weasley glanced at her in approval and nodded her head in agreement.

As she stared at herself in the mirror, Hermione ran her hands over the lace front of the bodice. Standing there with her hair done up and in one of the most beautiful wedding gowns she had ever seen, everything suddenly became real. She was getting married today. It was her wedding day, and her parents were completely in the dark. At that thought, tears again made their presence known.

Tonks sighed and squeezed her shoulder. "At least we haven't done your make-up yet, so you haven't ruined anythi – ouch!"

"Not the time, Dora," McGonagall admonished after having pulled on the Auror's ear.

"They're supposed to be here for this," Hermione sniffed as the Deputy Head slipped an arm around her waist. "They don't even know about it."

Minerva sighed and met Mrs. Weasley's gaze. After a long moment, the redheaded woman stepped forward. "Perhaps we could send for them –"

"No!" Hermione snapped her gaze from the mirror to the plump witch. Embarrassed by her sudden outburst, she dropped her eyes to the floor and wrapped her hands around her neck. "It's just… I don't want to involve them."

"In your wedding?" Molly asked in confusion.

"In my lie," she corrected quietly. "If I tell them the truth – which they would never begin to understand – I have no doubt that they would demand I return home. Or if they didn't, it would be too much of a risk for them to know, anyway. If I let them think what everyone else is supposed to think, then they probably will never speak to me again."

"Now, that cannot be true."

"My parents are _Muggles_, Mrs. Weasley," she explained, letting out a deep breath. "They won't forgive me my sins just because I wrapped it up in a pretty bow and labeled it 'soul mates.' To them, I would just be marrying my professor under the pressure of having our sexual relationship exposed. And if you think they're going to treat the two of us any nicer than the rest of you did yesterday, you are sadly mistaken."

"But they're your –"

Hermione shook her head. "In six years of schooling, I've managed _one_ detention. With Umbridge. And it was on _purpose_. To keep her from abusing the younger children. Yet, to this day, my parents are still upset with me over it – over ruining my academic record. And this is _way_ worse than a detention."

"But exponentially more fun," Tonks smiled, attempting to lighten the mood.

The girl sighed and perched on the edge of her bed. "I don't want them to know about this until its safe for them to know the whole truth. They don't get the _Prophet_, so it'll be alright on that front at least."

"If you're certain –"

"I am," she nodded.

"Alright," McGonagall nodded nervously before sitting down next to her. "Perhaps you'd like to discuss what will be expected during the ceremony."

"Please."

* * *

Closing his eyes momentarily, Severus let out a long breath and resumed his pacing of the small bridegroom antechamber. Not since Lily died had he ever considered himself marrying, and never had it been pictured as occurring within the walls of the sodding Ministry of Magic. Lily had always described their future nuptials – because, of course, they had been destined to live happily ever after together – as taking place in the small stone church she and her parents had attended in Cokeworth. In the later years of their friendship, he had once or twice considered the notion of eventually proposing to her where they had first met and then marrying her in the spot they had claimed as theirs on the edge of the Black Lake.

Obviously that had been before everything had gone down the crapper.

Lily ended up marrying _that_ Potter at his family's estate and it had been heralded as the bloody event of the season. The Potters would not hear of the small, intimate ceremony that Lily had always dreamed of, and there was no way in Hades that they would have set foot in a Muggle chapel. For all of the Marauders' grievances about Death Eaters, Potter's pure-blooded relatives were just as close-minded as everyone else in wizarding society. In fact, Severus was quite sure that had there not already been a tiny Savior-of-the-Wizarding-World spawning in her womb, Lily would never have been accepted into the family, as begrudgingly as it had been. Incidentally, had Potter's parents _not_ died so soon after Lily had provided James with an heir, she undoubtedly never would have been buried under the accursed surname.

Naturally, the newest Potter would never be told of his true family dynamic. The suit filed by his grandparents at the Ministry demanding a paternity test had magically disappeared upon their sudden surrender to dragonpox. The multitudes of letters sent to James, imploring him to think of divorce for the sake of the family, had all been destroyed in the explosion courtesy of Dumbledore and company. Even the remaining members of the Marauders seemed to have confused history with a fairy-tale. Immediately upon death, Lily had become a saint, James had become a doting husband and father, and the Potters had become the most generous people that Sirius Black ever had the privilege of knowing.

It was all a bunch of thestral manure, piled higher than the gold in the Potters' precious vault – half of which had actually been pledged in support of Lord Voldemort's political policies. Luckily for the reputation of the Potter name, the dragonpox prevented the finalization of that transaction, too. But for the sake of Harry – for the sake of the Wizarding World – no one spoke a word of it. Snape himself would never have known of it had Lily not written him a request for a tear-filled reunion in what had turned out to be the eleventh hour of her existence.

They had met covertly in Muggle London, where she had spent the first five minutes of the meeting with her arms wrapped tightly around him, sobbing into his chest and exclaiming how much she had missed his company. She had then confessed everything to him – about the pre-marital pregnancy, about the wedding, about the letters, about the suit, about the vault, and about her misery in remaining a Potter and her fear of losing custody if a divorce were to be granted. He had listened to everything silently, not even complaining when the miniature-James seated on her lap – in an early display of his astonishing intellect – decided that the Potions Master's fingers greatly resembled lollies.

When she had finished her tearful account, he had swallowed his pride and had taken his turn in coming clean. She had known everything at the time of her death, and yet she had forgiven him_… for everything_. He had never understood it – it had taken her five years to look past a single offensive word uttered in frustration, but only five seconds to forgive her own death sentence. She had, however, plopped the chubby tot on his lap and made him promise the drooling child that he would do whatever he could to protect him. In typical Potter fashion, the boy had then been so overcome with gratitude that he had literally pissed himself.

It was because of Lily that he kept his promise to the boy – who had thankfully outgrown the tendency for finger-gnawing, though the drooling appeared a much tougher habit to break. It was also because of her that he knew which type of wedding ceremony to demand. There were several options available in the wizarding world – many of which viewed marriage as a permanent institution. With the greater influx of Muggleborns in the population, however, divorce had gradually become an opportunity – depending, of course, on the strength of the magical binding used in the union. Because Lily had been such an undesirable daughter-in-law, the Potters had pushed them towards one of the more modern marrying methods – one which greatly resembled a Muggle ceremony, right down to the relative ease in which one could file for dissolution.

For as he stood there in the Department of Magical Marriages, Births, and General Population Services, he had no intentions whatsoever of remaining tied to Miss Granger for two seconds longer than was absolutely required.

"Wotcher, Professor!" a cheerful voice interrupted his thoughts. "You clean up well."

Severus sighed and turned to witness a platinum blonde Nymphadora Tonks giving him an exaggerated once-over. "You look decidedly less… nauseating."

Tonks smirked and patted her hair proudly. "I'm so flattered you noticed. I did rather suspect you would protest having pink in your wedding party."

"Yet assumed I would prefer a doppelganger of your dear aunt Narcissa instead?"

The Auror's nose wrinkled in sudden disgust. "Ugh, you're absolutely right."

After a moment of consideration, the nearly-white locks turned chestnut brown and began to gently curl. "Better?"

Snape gave a non-committal shrug, which was taken as an affirmative by the witch who then dramatically flopped into one of the ornate, cream-colored wingback chairs. "I assume you are the bride's maiden attendant?"

"Ten points to Slytherin."

"And you have managed to confuse me with the bride _how_?"

"It's the hair, I think, really," she smirked, twisting a strand of her own. "No, Molly banished me from the room after making one too many insinuations regarding the conclusion of your evening."

Severus stiffened slightly and sent her a dark glare. "And you thought it wise to share your ridiculous allusions here?"

"Hmm?" she asked, distracted momentarily by the tips of her now silver nails. "Oh, no. Actually, McGonagall sent me to make sure you haven't bolted. She seemed to think you'd prefer my company to that of the Headmaster's."

"I couldn't begin to imagine why," he sneered, leaning against the wall. After a few minutes, he glanced up at the clock and grimaced at the atrocious rendition of Cupid pointing out the time with his horrid bow and heart-shaped arrow. "Are they nearly finished preparing their sacrifice?"

"An apt description," she sighed, stretching out her legs. "Quite literally a virgin sacrifice we're making of her."

Snape cleared his throat and looked awkwardly out the window.

"But yes, Molly must nearly be finished bawling over her."

"I would have presumed Miss Granger to be the miserable party."

Tonks shrugged. "She did a fair share of sniffling earlier, but not actually about the arrangement itself. Apparently no one thought to consider she'll be giving up her relationship with her parents along with her future."

The wizard looked to her in surprise.

"My mother may have given me an atrocious name, but at least she forgave me my detentions… and storeroom banishments."

Severus blew out an uncomfortable breath and pinched his eyes shut. He had not considered her parents, either. Of course they would disapprove of it all. Of course the marriage would further alienate the girl from her non-magic family. Of course she would feel her life was ruined.

A knock on the door caused him to open his eyes.

"It's time," Minerva said with a tight smile as Tonks darted past her towards the bride's chamber.

He nodded slowly and inhaled a nervous breath.

* * *

A/N: I looked around for a dress that was similar to the one in my head and I actually found one! View it at www. millcrestvintage. com (backslash) 1940s-embroidered-lace-vintage-wedding-gown-p-462. html


	6. The Big Night

**A/N: To those of you who pointed out Hermione's detention first year - thank you. I did mix up the movie and the book. Oops.  
**

**Moi - you raise some very interesting (and paranoid) points. I think you may have a story in there.  
**

**Lyra Lupin - *puts head down in shame* You're right. There will be advice to come, I believe. Though, with Tonks... well, she's rather young and inexperienced herself.  
**

**Thank you weaselette01, JenniferLupinBlack, Icelynne, Li-Li-ThePinkbookgirl, Fanfiction fan, DedicatedReader, ButterflyGirl89, JeniDRalph, Ally Manuso, Mel, gossipgirly222, TBug, miranda c, articcat621, BlooDsucKkerR69, roon0, lunar47, mEEEm, vaila, Moi, ptite mac, AllyZ, knitchick, callalily32, Eleantris, Lyra Lupin, lloralalluvia, Startled Boris, Lanie Kay-Aleese, Catherine-PL, and the guest reviewers!  
**

* * *

**Chapter 6: The Big Night  
**

As soft music played from the charmed flowers adorning every possible hard surface, Snape glanced up at the miniature doves flitting about the rafters and scowled. The entire décor of the small chapel-like room reeked of Dumbledore's influence. Then again, given the ponce-ishness of the handful of workers he had run into in the short span of time he had been at the Department of Marriage, Births, and General Population Services, it was entirely plausible that the room was perpetually decorated like the back of some teenage witch's trashy romance novel.

As one of the doves cooed softly and pecked at the edge of a white ribbon, he wondered briefly if charmed birds were as prone to creating excrement as the real ones were. Filius had never discussed _that_ topic in his lecture on the _Avis_ charm. On the off chance it was possible, though, Snape narrowed his eyes at the bird in warning. If anything were to drop onto him from above, there would be nothing but a pile of scorched feathers left for the house elves to sweep up.

"Happy day, Severus," Albus whispered in his ear. "You're supposed to look _happy_ on a happy day."

Rolling his eyes, the Slytherin Head forced the frown from his countenance and thought of pleasurable things as Tonks appeared at the start of the white carpet. He pictured Lily smiling at him… Lily kissing him… Minerva cursing him out after a Gryffindor loss… Sirius dropping onto his head… Hermione walking down the aisle towards him…

His eyes widened briefly and his lips parted in shock as he watched Arthur Weasley escorting the girl on his arm. Gone was the awkward teen desperately waving her hand to get his attention in class. Gone was the giant bush growing on top of her head. Gone were the homely student robes and frumpy Weasley-made jumpers. In their stead was a beautiful, young woman who undeniably held his attention. Her hair was smoothed back and pulled up, allowing his focus to rest for the first time on her face. Her features were youthful, but striking nonetheless, and her neck was slender and delicate. Her dress fit her perfectly, hinting loudly at some of her curves, and allowing her shapely arms to be exposed. With the ageless grace she was suddenly exuding, he would not have disputed anyone who claimed her in that moment to be an angel.

Suddenly aware that he was about to channel a young Harry Potter, Snape closed his mouth shut with a snap and swallowed the excess saliva that had gathered in his mouth. Angel or not, he knew she was not really his. He did not deserve her.

"Perhaps now you might reconsider your arrangement," Dumbledore chuckled softly.

A shiver rippled through him at the realization he was gaping at a student, and he shot a small glare to the man at his side. "Continue meddling in my marital affairs, Albus, and I will not hesitate to chuck you off the Astronomy Tower."

The Headmaster's eyes twinkled brighter than the candles floating above their heads. "Indeed you wouldn't, my boy. I shall renounce my meddlesome ways from here on out."

"Bloody unlikely," Severus whispered as he turned his attention back to the woman – girl, he reminded himself – stepping nervously towards him. Finally remembering to blink, he watched as Arthur leaned down to whisper in her ear. Whatever was said caused her to nod almost imperceptibly and glance in his direction.

Granger blushed slightly and offered him the smallest of smiles. Before he even recognized what was happening, the corners of his lips turned up in a mirrored sentiment of hers. In what felt like an eternity, but had really only been the matter of a few seconds, the bride and her escort were at his side.

"Take care of her," Arthur said quietly as he held out the girl's hand.

Severus nodded as he took her hand in his. "You have my word."

The Weasley patriarch smiled at him and briefly pressed a kiss to the young witch's forehead before he scuttled down from the dais to stand by his wife.

Glancing at the soft hand now resting in his, he then raised his eyes to find hers staring up at him in anxiety. A smirk crossed his face as he bent his head towards hers and whispered, "What happened to your hair?"

A small spark fired in her eyes and she bit her lip slightly before leaning against him. "What happened to yours?"

He gave a nearly silent snort and his eyes crinkled in a laugh as the Ministry official began the wedding ceremony. The truth was he had not had to do any brewing for the past three days, and had had nearly the entire morning to himself. As such, he was able to find the time to dedicate an exorbitant amount of energy to his hair. It was not something he could afford to do every day, but seeing as it was technically his wedding day, he had put forth the effort.

As the official prattled on about the power of love, magic, and the treasure of marriage, Snape felt his eyes beginning to glaze over. It was a variation of the same speech given at every matrimonial union he had ever attended. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, however, he noticed that Granger was at rapt attention. He choked back a laugh, which managed to catch her notice.

Hermione glanced up at him in surprise. Severus Snape was laughing at the marriage official, and she did not know why. There was not anything remotely funny about – oh. He was not laughing at the official; he was laughing at her. Feeling suddenly embarrassed, she grinned awkwardly and dropped her gaze to the floor. When he squeezed her hand, however, she met his gaze and recognized that he was actually smiling at her.

Her stomach fluttered at the realization that she liked how warm his eyes could be. It made him seem younger and less…Professor Snape-ish. It made him easier to stand next to, and made it easier to hold his hand. Arthur had reminded her of the fact she was supposed to be pretending to be in love, and until now, it had seemed too daunting a task. Seeing him smile, however, made her begin to think that perhaps she could manage it after all.

Biting her lip nervously, she wondered how people who were in love were supposed to act. The student couples she had had the honor of breaking up in dark corridors had been all over each other with hands and tongues in all sorts of places. She was not that type of person and she highly doubted that Professor Snape was either. A brief image of the scenario appeared in her head, though, which caused her to blush a deep shade of crimson. She closed her eyes to push the pictures away, and when she opened her eyes, she noticed that he was staring at her with a curious eyebrow raised.

Wrinkling her nose, she shook her head briefly and glanced away. She had no idea how she was going to get through the wedding night. Losing your virginity to the one you loved seemed intimidating enough, but sacrificing it to your professor for the sake of the Order was an entirely different matter.

A few seconds later, she felt him tug on her hand gently. Shifting her gaze back towards him, she realized that the official was reaching the conclusion of his lengthy monologue.

"… And so it is today that a wizard and his bride stand before friends, family, and the Ministry, declaring their intentions to be bound in the greatest magic of all – love. Are the witnesses prepared to offer their testimony and support?"

"We are," Tonks and Dumbledore stated in unison as they stepped forward and each grasped one of the two peacock feather quills resting on the marble altar where the marriage document had been placed.

Hermione watched curiously as the Headmaster signed his name with a dramatic flourish first, and then as Tonks quickly penned hers beneath his. With a smile, they each returned to their respective sides of the celebrated couple.

"Now that the intended union has been witnessed before the Ministry, do you, Hermione Jean Granger, vow to love, cherish, honor, and obey your husband?"

"I do…so vow," she recovered quickly after Snape had pinched her finger, and the official had stared at her expectantly.

"And do you vow to care for Severus and tend any children resulting from your union?"

"I do so vow." She breathed a quick sigh of relief over remembering to use the correct phrase this time.

"Severus Tobias Snape, do you accept Hermione's vows?"

"I do so accept," he answered silkily.

"And do you vow to love, cherish, protect, and provide for your wife and any children resulting from your union?"

"I do so vow."

"With that, I ask that you bring forth and exchange the rings with which you wish to bind yourselves to one another."

With a nudge, Tonks dropped a ring into her palm and gave her a wink. Hermione sucked in a calming breath and, when Severus extended his left hand, slowly slid the simple silver band onto his ring finger. In a slightly quivering voice, she stated, "I, Hermione Jean Granger, choose to bind myself to you."

Snape cleared his throat and caught her left hand before she dropped it to her side. While slipping the diamond-accentuated emerald ring onto her finger, he spoke in a confident tone. "I, Severus Tobias Snape, accept your bond, and in return, choose to bind myself to you."

"As you have each expressed your intention, you may now finalize the bond by signing your name with the feather of the peacock, symbolizing the immortality of your love," the official instructed in an overly-rehearsed manner.

As Severus signed the document first, Hermione suddenly became nervous. Was she supposed to use Granger or Snape when she signed? No one had said when they explained the ceremony. Panicking slightly, she tugged on his sleeve and quickly whispered the question to him.

"Granger," he mumbled as he handed her the quill.

"You're sure?"

Snape fixed her with one of his characteristic stares, and she suddenly felt like a chastised student again. Swallowing nervously, she grabbed the feather and quickly scratched out her name on the indicated line. As she set down the quill and returned to his side, he wrapped his fingers around hers again.

"And to seal the bond?" the official eagerly intoned.

_Bloody pervert_, Severus thought as he noticed how the old, Ministry wizard's face lit up at the prospect of the required kiss. Glancing down at Hermione, he caught sight of her eyes staring up at him in fearful anticipation. Pushing the knowledge that she was a student out of his mind, he gently traced his finger along the side of her jaw-line and under her chin. Tilting her head back slightly, he lowered his mouth to meet hers.

Hermione sucked in a breath as his surprisingly soft lips pressed against her. As her eyes fluttered closed, she placed her free hand upon his chest and pushed back against the kiss. As the tip of his tongue teased her lips apart, she forgot all about her current situation. In her head, she was no longer joining her dreaded professor in a ruse of a marriage – she was simply having the best kiss of probably her entire life.

The flash of a camera bulb, however, brought her crashing back to the cruel reality of the world. Severus immediately pulled away from her, leaving her flushed, breathless, and wanting. She opened her eyes to see that Snape was equally flushed, with what looked like a trace of guilt in his darkened gaze.

She did not dwell on his expression much longer, though, as her attention was instantly caught by the marriage contract floating up from the altar. Their two signatures began to glow in a golden color, and amazingly enough, pulled up from the parchment to hang in the air above their heads. She watched in awe as her name shimmered like a sparkler, before changing from **_Hermione Jean Granger_** to **_Hermione Jean Snape_**. Her signature then collapsed into Snape's and they both disappeared with a flash, followed shortly by the contract itself. Simultaneously, a tingling warmth occurred in her left ring finger, and as she looked down she noticed the ring brightened slightly before settling back into its normal hue.

"Wonderful!" the official beamed and clapped his hands together. "As a representative of the Ministry of Magic, it is my express pleasure to pronounce the two of you wizard and wife!"

The clapping of the audience was louder than she had expected, and as she glanced over her shoulder, she noticed that a dozen or two Ministry workers had popped in to witness the ceremony and were now forming a long line. One by one, the guests came forward to shake Snape's hand and offer the couple their good tidings.

Kingsley had been one of the newcomers – though it was likely that had been by design and not happenstance as was the case with the rest. The newly appointed Head of the Auror Office gave Snape a firm handshake before clasping Hermione's hand and bringing it to his lips. She smiled at him softly, grateful to finally be personally recognized by someone.

"Thank you both," he whispered before disappearing back down the aisle.

"Oi, Professor," Fred grinned, clapping the glaring man on the back. "Don't let our Hermione push you around now."

"She _can_ be a bit bossy," George smiled, grabbing hold of the groom's hand and pumping it heartily.

"Oi, Hermione." Fred winked. "Don't let our Professor push you around now."

"He _can_ be a bit bossy," George smirked before kissing her hand.

Hermione glanced at the man beside her and was immediately thankful that their wedding had taken place in a public venue. The normally brooding man looked nearly ready to slaughter George and then use his lifeless body to strangle his twin. Tapping Snape on the hand, she silently reminded him of the need to keep up appearances. She knew he had understood, for after looking at her, he sighed loudly and donned a cheerier expression before politely shaking Arthur's hand.

The witch smiled at her success and was given a wink from the Weasley patriarch.

"If you ever are in need," Arthur whispered to her, "do not hesitate to ask."

She had barely managed an appreciative response before Molly pulled her into a crushing embrace. When her husband finally managed to tug the witch away, Hermione sighed and leaned slightly against Snape's arm for support. After another batch nameless Ministry faces passed by her without paying her much attention, she watched in amusement as Snape begrudgingly allowed himself to be pulled into a hug by Professor McGonagall.

"Don't let him bully you," the elder witch whispered into her ear as she, too, received a hug. "And if he does, you know exactly where my office is."

"Wotcher, Professor," Tonks beamed, holding out her hand expectantly. When Severus defeatedly grabbed hold of it, she dramatically narrowed her eyes. "Take care of my girl, or else. I, too, know exactly where Minerva's office is."

Snape rolled his eyes, and the temporarily-brunette Auror moved on to embrace Hermione. "Owl me with anything, and I'll _Reducto_ the door if I have to."

The Gryffindor laughed and squeezed the other woman in return. "Thank you for being there."

"No worries, love," Tonks smiled, stepping back. She then waggled her brow and gestured with her head towards the groom. "You know I'll be expecting details."

Severus let out an exasperated groan and glared at the chuckling Headmaster, who was thankfully the last of the line. "If _you_ ask for details –"

"You'll pitch me from the tower, I am well aware," Dumbledore smiled. "I merely wanted to wish the both of you the best, and I shall see you in the morning. Sleep well."

With a twinkle of his eye, he escorted Tonks from the dais and went to stand with the rest of the crowd.

"What are they waiting for?" Hermione asked out of the corner of her mouth.

Snape sighed. "For me to throw you over my shoulder and drag you back to the cave."

"That isn't fun—ny—oh god!" she gasped as he suddenly swept her up into his arms. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around his neck and tried not to panic.

"Granger, you're not even five feet off the ground," he hissed as she tightened her grip while he stepped down from the marble platform. "There is no need for hyperventilation."

"Promise you won't drop me," she whispered as they began their trek down the aisle.

Severus snorted. "For Merlin's sake, I have cauldrons that weigh more than you do. I think I am perfectly capable of lugging you to the Floo Station without straining anything vital."

"The Floo Station?" she panted nervously. "That's like three floors away."

"Four, actually."

"Tell me you're taking the elevator."

He smirked upon reaching the double doors of the wedding chambers, which opened on their own. "I don't think it wise to begin our marriage with a lie, do you?"

Hermione whimpered and slammed her eyelids shut before burying her face into his shoulder.

As he reached the edge of the sweeping marble staircase, he adjusted the placement of his arms slightly, causing his bride to squeak in terror. Snape rolled his eyes. "Out of all of students in my care, I had to be shackled to the only one with a fear of heights."

"It isn't a fear of heights," she muttered without opening her eyes. "It's a fear of falling from said heights."

"And who wouldn't be afraid of plummeting the agonizing distance of four feet? The possibility of a bruised arse is a harrowing one indeed."

"I can't tell you how happy I am to have my husband mocking my irrational fears on my wedding day," she sputtered, peeking through one eye. "It's been an absolute fantasy of mine ever since I was a little girl."

"Had I known that," he sneered, "I would have forgone the Floo entirely in favor of whisking you away on my broom."

"Only if you had rendered me unconscious first."

"A tempting suggestion, I must admit." He paused pointedly on the next landing and gestured with her feet. "I do believe the Department of Magical Games and Sports is on this floor. Undoubtedly they would have a spare broom lying about that we could borrow."

"One step in that direction, and I swear to God I will send Professor McGonagall a patronus on the spot."

"My, my," he scoffed, "it seems that the Weasley twins were right about you after all."

* * *

"Okay, we've made it to your cave," she sighed after they spun out of the fireplace. "You can put me down now."

"So be it," he mumbled, suddenly removing the arm from beneath her knees.

Hermione cried out in surprise as her feet fell back to the ground. "You dropped me, you arse!"

"I did no such thing," he chided, smacking her hip lightly where his other arm was still wrapped around her waist. "In case you failed to notice, you are still maintaining a death grip on my neck. There was little risk of you actually falling to your death."

Sucking in a frustrated breath, the witch yanked her arms down and pulled away from him. Spinning slightly, she glanced around the room curiously. The furnishings were sparse and practical. A forest green sofa faced the fireplace from which they had just emerged, while the matching armchair sat across the room near an overflowing bookcase. A long table was pushed against the far wall and was covered in tidy stacks of student work, undoubtedly organized by class section.

A number of doors punctuated the walls periodically, and she eyed them with interest. "Do I get a tour?"

With a sigh, Severus extended his arms and gestured to each door in turn. "_That_ is the entrance to my office. Through there is the hallway to my private lab – and I say private for a reason, Granger. That door opens near the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room. My quarters. The loo. And your room."

Her eyes widened slightly in surprise. "I have my own room?"

"You entertain the notion that I would suffer sharing my sleeping quarters with you?"

That he emphasized the word 'suffer' did not escape her, and she folded her arms indignantly. "I just assumed it would be expected of us, that's all."

"I would argue that we are submitting to enough expectations as it is."

_That's certainly true_, Hermione agreed as she stifled a yawn.

Snape glanced towards her room briefly. "The house-elves were to set out your things. If you wish a different arrangement, you may take up your complaints with them in the morning. As it is, I suggest you retire for the evening. The Board of Governors will be expecting us following breakfast."

As he turned to open the door to his bedroom, she bit her lip in confusion. "Wait!"

The wizard faced her with a raised brow.

"Don't we, erm, have to –"

"No," he answered firmly. "There will be no marriage bed. You may rest assured, Miss Granger, that this union will remain in name only."

"They won't know?"

Severus folded his arms and frowned at her. "The only way anyone would know is if you or I tell them."

"You're sure?"

He snorted and rolled his eyes. "Did you imagine a Ministry official standing over us with a clipboard waiting to check off on whether or not penetration has been achieved?"

Hermione flushed red and dropped her gaze to the floor.

"Or maybe some poor sod staring at a bell, waiting for it to ring in our joyous consummation? If that were true, the Weasleys would have worn out half a dozen bells at least. The Malfoys' bell on the other hand would be gathering dust. Honestly, Granger, do you really think the Ministry has nothing better to do than keep track of how often its constituents copulate?"

"Well how am I to know?" she muttered. "I have no bloody idea how wizarding marriages work! Fourteen hours ago I was being marinated like a piece of meat, for Merlin's sake! And just now you hauled me through the Ministry like a prize won at some stupid carnival!

"I may read a lot of books, Professor, but never any on marriage – magical _or_ Muggle. It wasn't exactly an interest of mine. So forgive me if I'm a little behind the times."

Snape inhaled loudly but inclined his head in acknowledgement. "Barring a physical examination of your person – no, they won't know."

With that, Hermione let out a relieved sigh and felt as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She closed her eyes for a second before in the direction of her room. "Good night then, I guess."

The Potions Master grunted in response and disappeared into his bed chamber, closing the door behind him with a click.

Pushing open her door, she peered in to find a comfortable-sized room with a double bed, wardrobe, full-length mirror, and bookshelf. Her books had all been tidily shelved; her chest was placed neatly at the foot of the bed; and her own bedding had been tucked onto the mattress.

Kicking off her shoes, the girl let out a small gasp at the feeling of the cold stone on her bare feet. She quickly set to finding her slippers, but paused upon seeing her reflection in the mirror. Straightening to her full height, she carefully examined her profile. She really did not look any different than she had that morning. There was nothing but the wedding gown and sparkling emerald on her left hand to indicate she was no longer the same, unattached student.

Hermione Granger was gone, and in her place was Hermione Snape.

"Mrs. Snape," she whispered before crinkling her nose. She certainly did not look old enough to be a Mrs. Anything. Blowing out a breath, she began to turn away from the mirror, stopping in horror upon catching sight of the long row of buttons down her spine. Wincing, she tried contorting her arms to reach them, but sighed with the realization that her elbows simply did not bend that way.

She bit her lip as she considered what to do. She knew there were charms for removing clothing, but having never performed them before, she was not about to do it on an irreplaceable garment that did not even belong to her. As the bodice was fitted, pulling it over her head or slipping it down her hips was completely out of the question.

"Well, shite."

There really was only one option left.

* * *

Severus had just removed the outer layer of his dress robes when a quiet knocking sounded on his bedroom door. Grimacing slightly, he stood from the edge of his bed and yanked open the door to stare down at his sheepish-looking bride. "What?"

"Erm," she blew out a deep breath and mumbled something intelligible.

"If you expect for me to understand what you're saying, the actual enunciation of your words is required."

Hermione frowned and stared at the ring on his finger as she fumbled with her skirt. "I need assistance with my buttons."

"Your buttons?" When the girl gathered up the short train of the gown and slowly spun her back towards him, he groaned softly. "Why in all that is holy do you have so many buttons?"

"You're one to talk," she muttered quietly. "Not to mention the wizarding world hasn't exactly progressed to zippers – which I would have needed help with anyway. I would have asked Professor McGonagall, but seeing as I've been informed that the happy couple is not to be seen or heard from on their wedding night, I didn't think it proper. Now will you help, or not?"

Snape sighed, but leaned against the doorframe and set to work on the first button at the base of her neck. "There are no more than ten buttons on any of my regular articles of clothing, and my dress robes have only fifteen. You have a ridiculous forty-five."

"That many actually?" she asked, slightly interested.

"Yes," he huffed, cursing a second later when his finger slipped from the sixth button. "Just how exactly _were_ you meant to get out of this bloody garment on your own?"

Hermione cleared her throat nervously. "I don't think the dress was designed with that in mind actually. I rather think it was intended for _someone_ _else_ to remove it."

The wizard froze suddenly with the realization he was actually in the process of disrobing his student. He grimaced and stared at ceiling for a long second before gathering enough strength to carry on in his present task. "And in the mad dash for your maidenhead, a dunderheaded groom is supposed to have the patience to carefully undo forty-five satin buttons?"

The girl blushed slightly and shook her head. "I suppose it wasn't that well thought out after all. Perhaps someone should introduce them to Velcro?"

Severus snorted at the thought of Albus Dumbledore cheerily playing with his robes while he sat at his desk – pulling apart the Velcro strips and then pushing them back together again. "As practical as that sounds in theory, I don't believe the execution would be desirable in the least."

She raised a curious eyebrow and turned to look at him over her shoulder.

"If you insist on fidgeting, I will leave you to rot in this gown."

Hermione rolled her eyes and faced the sitting room once again. As she took in a deep breath, it pulled the two sides of the dress apart, revealing a larger expanse of her bare skin.

The Potions Master swallowed uncomfortably as he pushed the next button through its hole. He glared above her head, blindly continuing his work. He was not going to look at her creamy flesh. He was not going to notice how its smooth surface immediately puckered into raised bumps upon exposure to the cold dungeon air. He was not going to think about the pleasant heat and energy exuding from her body. He was not going to –

_Bloody buggering hell_. He _was_ looking. He was already ogling the backside of his student and still had another twenty-seven buttons to go. He tried closing his eyes, but found that the images behind his eyelids were worse than the one in front of them. And without his sight, he accidentally missed the next button.

Hermione shivered and tensed at the slight touch of his fingers against her spine. Severus immediately threw open his eyes and yanked back his hand.

_Student…student…student_… He began chanting in his head. _Bushy-haired… know-it-all… arm-waving… incessant badgering…Potter worshipping…student…student…student…_

_Good god_. He could not do this much longer. He cleared his throat loudly. "Can you reach the rest?"

"Erm…"

She reached back with one hand to check, and Severus scowled as her fingers failed to reach the highest six buttons. Groaning internally, he smacked her hand away and tried not to focus on what he was doing. "Remind me why we must preserve the sanctity of this dress?"

"Because it belongs to Professor McGonagall," she sighed.

Oh, sweet relief! If there was anything that could obliterate the rising tension in his trousers, the picture of the austere Deputy Headmistress was surely it. With the disturbing image of undoing Minerva's buttons firmly planted in his mind, he quickly completed his task and sent the girl away to finish the undressing process herself.

Slamming the door shut, he sagged against it and let out a pained growl.

"Student," he whispered, beating his forehead repeatedly against the thick oak door. "Student…student…student…"

* * *

After waiting long enough to assume that Granger had successfully made it into her pajamas and was securely tucked into bed with her virginity still intact, Severus finally deemed it safe to leave his room. Quickly he made his way toward the bathroom door, pushing it open just enough to slip through into the darkened room and then shutting it with a snap. He turned on his heel and made the familiar trek in the dark towards the commode.

When a loud crunch sounded beneath his foot, however, he stopped cold in his tracks. Wordlessly lighting the wall sconces, he glanced down in surprise to see that he had stepped squarely in the middle of a litter box.

"Of _course_ she has to have a sodding cat!" he shouted heatedly. With a scowl, he kicked the box towards the far wall of the room, sending the tiny pebbles skittering across the floor. He blew out a frustrated puff of air, but decided to leave the mess for the house elves to deal with after he went to bed.

If he were to scoop it up himself, he would be hard pressed to stop himself from dumping the contents of the box in between Albus's bed sheets.


	7. The Inquisition

**A/N: Wow, has it been chaotic around here! I've been in an absolute rush to get Grad School stuff turned in, and I'm starting a second research project. In addition to the class-load, I'm managing a group of teaching assistants and am serving as President of a departmental club that is super busy during the first few weeks of school. I am seriously exhausted.  
**

**But, I wasn't going to leave you hanging forever! I've appreciated reading all of your reviews, and I'm excited to say that there is a trailer for this fic on youtube! Thank you so much to Fifinella for creating it. Check out the link on my profile to see it!  
**

**Love you all!  
**

* * *

**Chapter 7: The Inquisition  
**

With matching downtrodden looks on their faces, Harry and Ron silently made their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast on Monday morning. They had spent the last five minutes pounding on the door to Hermione's private room, and had received the same response from the portrait of Hortatia Buttledump that they had all weekend.

Well, almost the same response. Of course portraits – like their human counterparts – tend to get a bit testy when their words go unheeded, and they may even blow their lid.

And so it was that Hortatia's polite 'She's not in' and 'the room is unoccupied' had gradually become 'Oi! She's not bloody here, alright?' before morphing into this morning's 'Pound this into your fat heads, you moronic imbeciles! She's not fucking _there_! The post is bloody vacant, so just toddle off and die, why don't you?'

"I don't care if she was the most revered Head Girl of all time, or that she saved an entire class of firsties from a vampire attack," Ron muttered, adjusting the strap of his book bag. "She's bloody rude."

Harry made an unintelligible grunt and nodded his head as they stepped into the Hall.

"It's not like she has anything else to do all day," the redhead continued. "Oh, there's Gin. Maybe she knows where Hermione's been."

"She doesn't," Harry answered. "I asked her last night."

"Last night?" A confused look crossed his friend's face. "How could you have asked her last night? You and I were together the entire time except when you had your meeting with Dumbledore, and Ginny went up to the girl's dorm half hour before you got back."

The dark-haired boy paled slightly as he realized his blunder. "Oh, erm, I ran into her in the hallway when I was walking to the Headmaster's office."

"Oh," Ron mumbled. "Maybe she's heard something since then."

"Maybe." Harry gave a quiet sigh of relief that his explanation had been accepted. He had not told Ron that Dumbledore had limited their exploratory sessions of Tom Riddle's mindset to once a week instead of twice. Nor had he told the redhead that he was using the extra time in his schedule to host exploratory sessions of the boy's sister instead.

"Oi, Gin!" Ron called out. "Know anything about Hermione?"

The girl looked to her brother and shook her head. "Not since that stupid article came out."

"It's not like her to just disappear, though," Harry muttered taking a seat next to his secret girlfriend. "We haven't had a word from her all weekend."

Ginny shrugged her shoulder and touched his hand beneath the table. "She's likely facing the Board of Governors today. I heard Michael Corner talking about it. His uncle's one of them."

"Oh, don't tell me you're _still_ snogging that tosser!" Ron grumbled loudly.

Harry feigned disinterest as the witch narrowed her eyes indignantly. "I'm not! I'm not snogging any _tossers_!"

"Good," Ron stated forcefully as he grabbed a piece of toast. "Keep it that way."

"I plan to!"

"Took you bloody long enough!"

"Maybe it did!"

"'Bout time, too."

"I thought so," Ginny responded, lacing her fingers through Harry's.

Her brother shook his head and shoved half the toast in his mouth. "You're a pain in the arse."

"And you're just an arse," she countered.

He was about to offer a retort when he spotted the Head Boy sitting down at the Ravenclaw table. "Hey, there's Terry. Maybe he knows something. Come on, Harry."

The Boy-Who-Lived sighed and slipped his hand out of her grasp, glancing at his best friend who was already halfway over to the other table.

"It's frightening how clueless he is," he mumbled upon standing.

Ginny snorted and folded her arms on the table. "I have six brothers. Statistically speaking, one of them was bound to be an idiot."

"What about Percy?"

She rolled her eyes. "He's just a prat, not an idiot. He read me the impropriety act about you two years ago."

"But you were dating Michael then."

"So? Doesn't mean it was Michael I was thinking about, does it?"

Harry blushed and forced himself to follow after Ron. When he caught up to the boy, he caught Terry Boot mid-response.

"—haven't seen her all weekend. There's a hearing scheduled today, though, I know. Mike's told me it looks bad. I mean, I didn't believe it at all when it came out, but now…" He trailed off and shook his head.

"What the hell does that mean?" Ron sputtered defensively.

"It means," Morag MacDougal sneered as she leaned into the conversation, "that we caught them on Saturday morning. _Together_."

"Caught who?"

"Her and Snape." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively, causing the ginger-haired boy to huff angrily.

"Together how, exactly?" Harry demanded, crossing his arms.

The girl snickered and her eyes lit up as she eagerly responded. "It was exactly like Rita wrote about. They were in the stairwell outside of her room – he had her up against the wall, and she wasn't fighting to get away, if you catch my drift."

"No, _that_ isn't what you saw," Ron hissed. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"It was early in the morning."

"So?"

"Her hair was mussed up."

"Her hair is always mussed up! That proves nothing."

Morag shrugged. "Her clothes were all wrinkled, and she was blushing at him."

"She was not _blushing at him_!" Ron shouted, drawing the attention of several other students. "You're an idiot!"

"There had to be some other explanation," Harry sighed, cutting off the witch's next comment.

"Whatever," she rolled her eyes. "Don't believe me, then. But just so you know, there are four other students who saw the exact same thing I did. And you can bet at least one of them will testify to it. She's screwed. Marietta and I are hoping for expulsion. It would serve her right."

"Knock it off," Terry said forcefully before Ron could shout something worse.

"I'm just giving my opinion," she huffed.

"No one asked for it, though," the redhead grumbled.

Morag gave him a haughty smirk.

The Head Boy sighed and shrugged. "Sorry guys, but Hermione doesn't exactly have many friends at this table. I like her, but there's only so much I can do with things the way they are."

Ron opened his mouth to criticize the boy, but Harry grabbed hold of him and steered him away.

"Not worth it," he muttered as his friend glared.

"'Only so much I can do with things the way they are'," Ron sneered bitterly as they sat back down by Ginny. "Tell you what _I_ can do; I can punch him in the face."

"What'd he say?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Ravenclaw's hoping Hermione gets expelled," Harry answered.

"Tossers," Ron spat.

The witch sighed and shook her head. "This whole thing is bollocks. Forget Hermione for a second. It's Snape, for Merlin's sake. I mean, does he even have one that works?"

Both boys choked on their own air and looked at her in shock.

"What?" she shrugged. "Girls talk."

"About Snape's prick?" Ron hissed, leaning across the table. "That's loads worse than snogging stupid blokes."

"I didn't say _I_ did!" she corrected. "It's just that _some_ girls in the past have attempted to improve their marks by suggesting certain things –"

"With _Snape_?" Harry spat in disbelief as the owls swooped in with the morning's post.

"Yes, _with_ _Snape_," the girl nodded. "But not only did he turn them down, he turned them in. That's what happened to Sharlin Lavery last year, when she got expelled. I imagine Ravenclaw's still sore on that point, as well."

"Bloody hell." Ron rolled his lips in disgust and shivered as he picked up the rest of his toast. "Who would ever want to shag the creep? For that matter, who would even want to _kiss_ him?"

His friend snorted and was about to vocalize his agreement when he was interrupted by Ginny's startled cry as she picked up her copy of the _Daily Prophet_. Her eyes were the size of saucers as she stared at the front page. "Apparently Hermione does."

"Not funny, Gin," the boys said in unison.

"I'm not kidding," she shook her head and held up the newspaper. "Look!"

The half-chewed chunk of toasted bread and jam fell out of Ron's mouth as he and Harry dropped their jaws in horror.

Across the Great Hall, students of all Houses had similar reactions as they watched the images of their Head Girl and Potions Master share a passionate-looking kiss… over and over and over again.

"What did I tell you," Morag MacDougal smirked as she nudged the Head Boy in the side. "She's _so_ getting expelled."

With eyes widened in disbelief, Terry Boot slowly nodded his head.

* * *

Hermione woke up suddenly to the sound of loud pounding. Blinking rapidly she threw back the covers and quickly scampered across the floor to the door.

"What's wrong?" she asked breathlessly upon opening the door.

Snape met her sudden panic with a cool raise of one eyebrow. "You've slept past breakfast."

She swallowed back her adrenaline rush and covered her face with her hand. "That's it? I thought the room was on fire the way you were beating down the door."

He rolled his eyes. "Were the room on fire, Granger, I would not waste the time trying to rouse you from your slumber."

The girl frowned and crossed her arms. "Oh, I have no doubts that you would leave me to asphyxiate -"

"I would have used the time to extinguish the flames, you ungrateful twit," he snapped irritably.

"Oh," she muttered quietly. "Sorry."

"You're wasting time," the wizard stated coolly. "We meet with the Board of Governors."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Well is there time enough to shower?"

"If you manage not to dilly dally any further," he said with a sneer.

"I don't -" she hissed before deciding it a waste of breath and shaking her head. She had nearly shut the door before he cocked his head and fixed her with a calculating look.

"Do you normally wear your entire wardrobe to bed, Granger, or were you just concerned that I'd renege on my earlier promise and thought you'd curb my hypothetical amorousness by forcing me to remove clothing until I died of old age?"

The girl looked down and flushed in embarrassment as she remembered her late night dash for extra layers. The only way she could have felt any more self-conscious was if she had answered her door in the nude. Pushing aside that nightmarish thought, she spoke in a quiet voice. "I was cold."

"You were cold," he reiterated blandly as he stared at her in suspicion. "Have you suddenly forgotten how to cast warming charms? I seem to recall you have a particular penchant for setting fire to things."

Hermione gulped nervously, wondering how long he had known that she was the one to burn his robes. "Sorry about…erm… Warming charms only work so long as you're awake. They fade away when you fall asleep. Believe me, I tried, but I couldn't stay asleep in the frigid cold."

The man snorted. "You've lived for six years in a Scottish castle –"

"Not in the fricken dungeons!" she interrupted. "Heat rises you know."

Severus rolled his eyes and pointedly checked his wristwatch. "You have twelve minutes before I physically drag you to the Headmaster's office."

Her eyes narrowed into a cold glare, and she immediately slammed the door in his face.

With a smirk, he stepped away from her door and quickly moved to pull his own bedroom door shut. He did not want to risk her catching sight of the bunched up bed covers and hastily cast aside nightshirt. There was absolutely no way he would ever admit that he himself had only just awakened ten minutes prior.

When she popped out of her room with an armload of clothes, he cleared his throat loudly and glanced at his watch before sitting gracefully in his armchair. He crossed his legs when she rolled her eyes and grinned slightly when the bathroom door slammed shut with a bang.

He knew the girl was probably hurt by his sudden reversion into his usual cold persona, but he felt it had to be done. As long as they were in private, he needed to keep the distance between them. The weakness he had exhibited the night before could not happen again.

As the sound of running water drifted towards him, he closed his eyes and tried to ignore the rumbling in his stomach. He had not eaten anything for going on sixteen hours now and it was not likely that he would get anything until after the pompous windbags were done interrogating his new bride. If she could keep her mouth shut, there was a chance he could eat before they were done serving lunch.

Past experience, though, led him to believe it would be rather difficult for the soon-to-be -former Head Girl to keep quiet when her feathers were ruffled. It would not bode well for her academic career if she insulted any of the school's governors.

"Ahem."

Severus opened his eyes to see the girl staring at him. Thank the merciful stars, her ridiculous hair was back. Soon enough so would the shapeless clothing. If she were to lounge about in his quarters every day in the form-fitting outfits she suddenly seemed to possess, he would surely be in need of a new private retreat.

Hermione straightened the cuff of her blouse and shrugged. "I figured it would seem a bit presumptuous to show up in my school robes; would it not?"

He cleared his throat and dipped his head in acknowledgment.

She bit her lip as she smoothed the front of her pencil skirt. "Do you think this will be alright? I don't really have any formal wizarding robes."

The man dropped his gaze to his hands and slowly stood from the chair. "It will have to suffice."

Her face turned into a scowl as he pushed past her towards the fireplace.

"Shall we?" he intoned impatiently. "I would like to be able to eat sometime today."

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. "_You_ didn't go to breakfast?"

He paused briefly, mentally cursing himself for bringing it up. "And let them all wonder why I've willingly left the confines of my nubile wife to dine alone?"

The girl blinked at the comment and tried to fight the heat rising in her cheeks. "Well you could have woken me sooner, and then _I_ could have eaten, too."

"I'm not your keeper," he grumbled as he reached for the tin of floo powder.

She opened her mouth to offer a retort, but was cut off when threw his arm around her waist and yanked her into the green flames. As she had been caught off-balance, she immediately collapsed against his chest when they spun into the Headmaster's office. Her cheeks flushed at the contact, and she quickly pushed away from him.

"Ah, Severus, Hermione!" Dumbledore called out, rising from his desk. "I am glad to see that the two of you have not lost track of time, as it were."

Snape gave a heated sigh as he slipped his arm about his wife's shoulders.

The witch thinned her lips in frustration and attempted to shrug out of his grasp. When he responded by tightening his grip, she glared dangerously at him.

"Madam Snape," the Headmaster winked as he stepped into the center of the room. "You look positively radiant this morning."

Hermione's eyes widened at the insinuation and momentarily forgot her ire. She flicked her gaze to the old man before returning it questioningly to her husband. "Please tell me he knows –"

Severus silenced the rest of her statement with a pointed look. He glanced to where the wizard in question was staring at them expectantly as he stood next to an ornate door. Snape dropped his voice to a whisper as he guided her in that direction. "Of course he _knows_. He's merely providing you with the reminder that _you_ seem to require."

Realization dawned on her face, and she closed her eyes. Taking in a calming breath, she forced herself to relax in his hold. As she opened her eyes and nodded, she plastered what she hoped was a believable smile on her face.

Dumbledore returned a bright expression as he pulled open the door and gestured for them to pass through it.

The young witch swallowed her anxiety as she caught sight of the dozen wizards seated around a long, curved table. As the doorway was only wide enough for one to fit through at a time, Snape moved his hand from her shoulder to her elbow and gently maneuvered her into the room ahead of him.

A single chair faced the panel of stony-faced men, and Hermione nervously glanced up at the Potions Master as he motioned for her to sit. When she had done so, he silently stood behind her, rested one hand on her shoulder, and stared at the Board as if issuing them a challenge.

The Headmaster closed the Boardroom door and quietly moved to a chair on the edge of the room. He offered the girl another smile before allowing his face to take on a more serious expression. He then nodded towards the table, where the eldest wizard sat forward in his chair.

"Miss Granger –"

Snape cleared his throat loudly causing each of the school governors to shift in their seats. Albus held a twinkle in his eye as the current speaker tilted his head in acknowledgement.

"My apologies, Professor. No disrespect was implied."

"I am sure none was taken, Governor Rames," Dumbledore said gently, though Severus held a piercing glare that suggested to the contrary.

Rames gave an uncertain nod and let his gaze settle on Hermione once again. "_Mrs. Snape_, while this morning's paper seems to have explained away some of the disturbing accounts previously reported, there are further details that we as the Board of Governors must hear before we are able to make a decision regarding the status of your enrollment at Hogwarts."

The girl took in a deep breath and tried not to squirm under the stares of the other eleven frowning members.

"Professor Snape," another man smiled, "If you would be so kind as to step out of the room so we may get started…"

The Slytherin Head gave a dip of his head and leaned around the back of her chair. Hermione internally startled as his lips grazed the side of her head.

"Whatever you do, don't argue," he whispered into her hair. She looked up as he straightened, and her eyes followed him as he disappeared back into the Headmaster's office. It was disconcerting how comforting she had found the warmth of his hand on her shoulder, and she wished he would have been allowed to stay.

"Ah," Dumbledore smiled, leaning towards the nearest school governor, "is the sight of love not a refreshing one, Governor Trubor?"

The sandy-haired gentleman flicked his gaze towards the rest of the Board before giving a hesitant nod.

"Now then, Mrs. Snape," Rames stated, pulling her attention back to the front, "is what was reported in the _Daily_ _Prophet_ accurate?"

Hermione straightened in her chair and cocked her head. "To which article are you referring?"

The man beside Rames held up that morning's edition, and her eyes widened briefly in surprise at the cover.

"Is it true that you imbibed the _Corazón_ _Verdadero_?"

She swallowed hesitantly and nodded as she glanced briefly at the Headmaster.

"And what occurred upon your ingestion of the potion?"

The girl took in a breath and folded her hands in her lap as she remembered the background history she had read two afternoons before. "At first, nothing happened. I thought maybe it hadn't worked, but that night I started having the dreams."

"The nature of these dreams?" a dark-haired wizard asked hastily.

Hermione blushed and dropped her gaze to the floor. The depiction of the types of dreams associated with the potion had been rather meticulous, and she was not quite comfortable in sharing that with the Board of Governors - not that she would be comfortable sharing that with anyone.

"We are waiting, Mrs. Snape."

"Sorry," she stammered, fiddling with her skirt. "I, erm, dreamt of Pr-Severus… of us together. I could see us walking together, holding hands, and, erm, other things."

"Other things?"

She winced and sent a pleading look to Dumbledore, who cleared his throat.

"Governor Verpert, I believe you may presume upon the content of Madam Snape's dreams without her explicitly describing them for you."

A number of the other governors murmured their assent, much to her relief. Verpert seemed unfazed by the Headmaster's chastisement, and he quickly fired off another question.

"And so you then decided to act upon those urges?"

Hermione frowned slightly at his tone and crossed her arms. "No."

"No? The account previously published in the _Prophet_ claims the opposite."

"Because Rita Skeeter likes to make up stories!" she argued, nearly jumping up from her chair in frustration. "There was no basis for the rubbish she wrote!"

"And yet the recent change in your marital status reflects otherwise."

The girl grimaced and let out a loud breath. "I…we… It isn't like I ran right out and bedded my professor. That's what the _Prophet_ said, but it wasn't like that! I didn't do anything about it for some time. I tried to ignore the dreams, and then it was as though he was the only thing I could think about. I couldn't concentrate in classes, and it physically hurt to have to leave Potions lessons.

"When it became almost too much to bear, I approached S-severus, and confessed what I had done. Only then did we d-do anything, and it wasn't anything like what that woman wrote!"

"You pursued a sexual relationship with your professor, did you not?" Governor Verpert intoned.

"I didn't…I didn't…" she groaned in frustration and looked at Dumbledore. She sighed at the firm look on his face and dropped her voice several levels. "It wasn't intended."

"Your ingestion of the potion was not intentional?" Trubor asked, while the man seated beside him narrowed his eyes.

"Are you alleging that someone else forced you to –"

"No!" she cried, interrupting the wizard.

"No to his question, or to mine?" he recovered quickly.

"To yours, to his – to both of you," she said heatedly. "I wasn't saying someone drugged me with the potion or that I didn't mean to take it. I did _that_ much willingly."

Dumbledore leaned forward in his chair. "What I believe she is trying to say, gentlemen, is that she did not intend for her true love to be someone forbidden by school policy."

"Yes!" Hermione hissed, pointing to him. "That's what I meant."

"Your nomination to Head Girl _by Professor Snape_ was based upon the fact that your academic career was beyond reproach," Governor Rames stated. "Yet you did not foresee the consequences of your actions?"

She felt as though the wind had been knocked out of her and she bit her lip as she attempted to find an adequate response. When she had, she felt absolutely disgusted with herself. "I didn't realize what effect it would have. I thought it was… I don't know. I didn't quite believe in the description. I'm…I'm Muggle-born, and … soul mates are hardly anything more than myth –"

She fell silent when a few members of the board began chuckling to themselves. Her ears were burning in humiliation and she blinked quickly to relieve the sting of oncoming tears. A slight coughing caused her to glance in Dumbledore's direction, and he gave an almost imperceptible nod for her to continue.

With a sigh, she sat on her hands and stared at the floor. "I was just curious to know if it would show me anyone, but I never imagined that it would be my Professor. And when it was, I tried everything to ignore it, but it didn't work. It just made it worse."

Another man cleared his throat. "And in all this time, you never brought your situation to the Headmaster?"

"If I may, Governor Corner," Dumbledore interrupted gently. "I was apprised of the situation by both Professor and Madam Snape prior to the commencement of their affair, and it was I who encouraged the arrangement to be kept quiet until such a time as it could be presented to the public in as accurate a manner as was possible. I was hopeful that this would not occur until after Madam Snape had completed her education here at Hogwarts. Ms. Skeeter, however, forced our hand as it were."

The Board members exchanged glances, and an odd silence descended upon the room before Rames finally spoke. "The _Corazón_ _Verdadero_, Mrs. Snape – you brewed it on your own?"

Hermione bit her lip and nodded slowly.

"If you would, please repeat for the Board the recipe which you used."

She said a silent prayer that she had committed that page to memory and recited it for the panel. When she had finished, she noticed that Governor Corner closed a copy of _Moste_ _Potente_ _Potions_ and nodded toward the rest of the men. Rames sent a silent spell toward the door into the Headmaster's office and called for Snape to return.

The young witch nervously glanced up at her husband as he came to stand by her chair.

"Professor Snape," Trubor addressed, "were you aware that a student of yours was brewing the _Corazón_ _Verdadero_?"

"I was not."

"You did not supply the ingredients?"

"I did not."

"You participated in the affair only after it became necessary for the well-being of your student?"

"That is correct."

"And you kept the Headmaster informed of the situation?"

"Yes."

"Your nomination for her role as Head Girl was based solely upon her scholastic record?"

"It was."

The Board of Governors whispered amongst themselves before the eldest spoke. "Professor Snape, with the testimony given here this morning, we find no cause for your continued suspension. You are hereby cleared of any alleged misconduct, and may return to your classes as soon as this afternoon. We apologize for the intrusion upon your schedule."

Hermione's eyes widened as she looked between the Board and the man standing beside her.

"As for your wife," Rames continued, "we will require the day to confer and will deliver our findings twenty-four hours hence."

Severus gave a stiff nod and turned to hold out his arm to the girl. When she did not immediately take it, he gave her a very pointed stare until she did.

"May I assume, Professor, that you still find the deliberation necessary?" Governor Verpert queried.

"You may," he responded, pulling Hermione from her seat and purposely ignoring her confused expression. With a polite dip of his head to the panel and his employer, he led the stunned witch from the room, through the Floo, and into their chambers before she had a chance to violently explode.

"Five questions?" she screamed as soon as they were alone. "_I_ get a bloody inquisition, but you only get five measly questions and you're cleared? WITH AN _APOLOGY_?"

* * *

Hours later, Severus briefly glanced up at the sound of her door opening before returning to his book. "Unless you have finished your tantrum, I suggest returning to your quarters."

Hermione narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms as she stepped into the sitting room. "I'm not a child who you can send to her room."

"I beg to differ," he muttered blandly without looking up from the page.

She huffed bitterly as she analyzed how far into the volume he was. "I thought you were supposed to have been teaching."

"And cut short my happy honeymoon?" he questioned upon turning the page. "What a disheartening notion."

The witch rolled her eyes and looked about the room in boredom. Her gaze predictably drifted toward the bookshelves. As she moved in that direction, Snape closed his book with a snap and cleared his throat.

"As you will be living here for the remainder of the year, I feel it prudent that we set aside some ground rules."

Turning back to face him, she uncrossed her arms and sighed. "Fine."

The man fixed her with a strong gaze as he crossed his legs. "As was mentioned previously, my laboratory is strictly off-limits unless I have given you permission otherwise. The same applies for that bookcase. If you wish to borrow a book, you will ask first. And if I deny your request, you will respect my decision no matter how desperate you are to devour the knowledge contained within its pages. Do you understand?"

The girl scowled, but gave an affirmative response.

"Furthermore, these are my quarters, not a substitute Common Room. If you feel the need to chatter with your idiot friends, you will do it elsewhere. There will be no guests unless I have given prior approval. Similarly, you are not to answer the Floo when I am not present. In fact, it would be better if you did not answer it at all. If you must use it, you will –"

"Ask permission first," she interrupted, crossing her arms against her chest. "There seems to be a pattern."

Severus narrowed his stare until she sighed and flopped onto the couch.

"What else am I not allowed to do?"

A slight smirk graced his face as he folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. "Seeing as you no longer are required to do rounds, I will expect you to be in these chambers at least an hour before curfew."

"Do I have a mandatory bedtime, too?"

"Should I find it necessary, I would be more than willing to assign you one," he responded immediately. "In addition, I expect order to be maintained when in my quarters. If you feel the need to let your private room fall into a state of chaos, that is a matter to be handled amongst yourself and the elves. However, the sitting room and lavatory will remain in the condition they are at present."

The girl glanced about the room and shrugged in indifference. She was not by habit a disorganized person, and so she felt as though she could follow that requirement easily.

"As for your cat," Snape sighed. "It will stay with you."

"Good luck telling him that," she snorted. "Crooks doesn't generally take to following orders."

"Regardless, the beast will behave or it will have to find a new home. I will not tolerate it shedding, scratching, or shitting in my personal space."

Hermione bit down on her lip and averted her eyes to the ceiling to avoid laughing at his demand. "Anything else, _sir_?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "On that note, we will need to keep up appearances when in mixed company. We will need to treat each other as though we actually care for one another, which will unfortunately necessitate the use of given names when in public. I will not have the entire Wizarding Britain thinking that I require my wife to address me as 'Professor' in private."

A blush rose onto her cheeks as she considered the implications of the statement. "And when in private, what do I call you?"

He let out a long breath and dropped his hands into his lap. "If it will prevent any dangerous slips later, you may use my name."

"Okay, _Severus_," she smirked.

The wizard rolled his eyes. "Have your fun now, but bear in mind you will properly conduct yourself as a married witch when outside of these rooms."

"Which means?"

"Which means that you will have eyes for no one but myself. You will deter any attempts on Mr. Weasley's part to convince you otherwise –"

"What? Ron isn't –"

"Granger," he hissed. "Just because _you_ are blinded by the copious amount of hair sticking out of your head does not mean everyone else is."

"You're wrong about that. We're just friends."

"Clearly, you are delusional, and I will not waste any breath to dissuade your misconceptions." Severus uncrossed his legs and stretched them out in front. "That being said, you will not be alone in his company - or any other male's company."

"But he and Harry are –"

"This is not open for debate, Granger," Snape snarled. "If you wish to spend time with your male friends, you will find a female escort first. I'm sure Miss Weasley will readily agree."

The witch wrinkled her nose and groaned at the prospect of sitting through Harry and Ginny sending each other secret glances over Ron's head. "You're being _completely_ ridiculous."

He watched her stand up from the couch. "Where are you going?"

"Were there further infringements upon my freedom you wished to inflict?" she riposted. "Otherwise, there's a dress I'd like to return before Professor McGonagall goes down to supper."

"Fine." He glanced at the clock and picked up his book again. "Minerva will be in her office at present. It would be best if you weren't seen on your own in the corridors until after the Board of Governors has made their ruling. Use the Floo."

"_Thank_ you ever so much for –"

"I have not asked for your sincere gratitude, Granger," he scorned. "What would give you the impression that I desire your false display of appreciation?"

Hermione's mouth snapped shut and she felt slightly shamed by his interruption. She realized that she had not actually thanked him for sacrificing his privacy to keep her safe. Tonks was right in that they could have easily tossed her reputation under the trolley in order to maintain the security of his position. She knew that she should really say something to that effect, but as she felt his conditions for living together were highly unfair, she could not quite bring herself to it. Instead, she cleared her throat and managed a quiet "Sorry" before escaping into her bedroom.

Severus stared at the open pages of his book until she had collected the gown and reappeared in the sitting room. He noticed that she very purposely avoided looking in his direction as she walked to the fireplace and she very quietly stated her destination so as not to draw his attention.

As the green flames diminished into embers, he let the book fall closed in his lap and he sighed as his gaze absently drifted to the ceiling. He closed his eyes and mentally prepared himself for the confrontation he knew would be arriving shortly.

When he heard the sound of the Floo activating several minutes later, he threw open his eyes and cursed internally at the sight of the head bobbing in his grate.


	8. Coming to Terms

**A/N: Thank you all so much for your continued reviews and your continued patience! I am working on an update to Bound to Him at the moment, but am hitting a bit of a creative block. Hopefully I'll overcome it soon.  
**

**Love you all!  
**

* * *

**Chapter 8: Coming to Terms  
**

"Severus!" the head of Lucius Malfoy called out. "I hear congratulations are in order."

Snape tossed a glare toward the fireplace, but said nothing in return.

The head swiveled about curiously, taking inventory of the room from the limited vantage point he had. "And just where is your charming young bride?"

"Out," he grunted.

"So the honeymoon is over already. How sad," the blonde smirked. "Nevertheless, would the groom care to pop in for a toast to married life?"

The professor snorted in irritation and crossed his arms. "You know full well that I don't drink, Lucius."

"Then you can watch me drink." Even as a detached head floating in a fireplace, the aristocrat managed an annoyingly arrogant smile.

Snape sighed softly as he rose from his chair and crossed to the fireplace. Three seconds later, he spun into the familiar large room that served as the Master's study in the exceptionally prissy Malfoy Manor.

"I must admit that I was a bit put out at not warranting an invitation to your blessed nuptials, my old friend," Lucius grinned as he held up a folded copy of that morning's _Prophet_. "I hear it was the highlight of the season."

Severus rolled his eyes and sat in one of the leather wingbacks. "It was as pretentious an affair as you could imagine Dumbledore arranging. Perhaps not as pretentious, though, as one of your productions."

The blonde wizard snorted as he stepped over to the ornate cabinet that housed his supply of remarkable booze. "Oh, come now, Severus. My productions possess a tastefulness sorely lacking in the current Headmaster."

"I'm sure the man would have loved to have made use of your _tasteful_ flock of pampered chickens."

Lucius's eyes lit up as he pulled out a pair of glass tumblers. "Narcissa _is_ rather attached to the peacocks. Who am I to begrudge her happiness?"

Snape gave an exasperated sigh. "You do realize that they scream a certain message regarding your ego, do you not?"

"A small price to pay for the promise of frequently having more than just my _ego_ stroked," he purred as he filled his glass. "Now, have you changed your mind regarding the brandy?"

"In twenty-six years, Lucius, have I ever accepted your offer of a drink?" the younger man asked in a bored tone.

The handsome wizard raised his eyebrow in response. "In twenty-six years, has there ever been an occasion more deserving of a drink than this?"

Severus gave a small snort and shook his head. "Your point is valid, but I will still respectfully decline."

"Suit yourself," his host smiled as he turned to face the room with his drink in hand. "Would you prefer a celebratory cigar instead?"

"You know I haven't smoked in more than a decade."

A look of mock horror crossed the blonde's face. "Dear gods, man, you've gotten old."

"I will forever be younger than you, however," his friend replied with a twitch of his lips.

"And yet, who would notice," Lucius smirked. "My dear Grandfather Selwyn lets loose more than you."

"Your grandfather is nearly a hundred and seventy-five," Snape sneered, picking at the edge of the armrest. "The only things he lets loose anymore are his bowels."

The older man let out a bark of laughter as he gracefully descended into his chair. "As disgustingly controlled as you are, you never fail to amuse me."

"Well, as long as you're entertained."

Malfoy lifted his glass to his lips. "Without you keeping it in check, Severus, where would my ego be?"

"My guess is at least half a flock more of useless, strutting birds and a contingent of minstrels to trumpet in your every entrance."

"Ah, but Narcissa's lovely cries at my entrances are worth several thousand trumpeting minstrels," he responded with a wicked glimmer in his eye.

Snape gave a half-hearted snort. "She's allowed you back into the bedchamber, has she?"

"It _was_ a bit of a dry spell, wasn't it?" Lucius grimaced.

"That's putting it mildly, I think. I'm not certain that a decade can be considered a 'spell'."

The man shook his head. "It was merely _most_ of a decade."

"And just how did you manage to crawl back into her good graces?" he asked with a raised brow.

Malfoy shrugged and took a small swallow of his brandy. "I have a bloody lawn full of glorified chickens, do I not? And certain other promises were made that I hope to make good on.

"But enough about the past. What about your stunning child bride?" he queried. "How was the much-celebrated wedding night?"

Severus winced and immediately thought of the long line of buttons. "Tedious."

The blonde coughed as he accidentally inhaled a sip of his drink. Wiping the tears out of his eyes, he managed a decent chuckle. "Is that anyway to speak of your wife, Severus? Surely she must be eager to learn from teacher."

The younger wizard fixed him with the darkest look in his repertoire.

"That dreadful?" Lucius snickered. He leaned forward to set his half-finished drink upon an end table. "My, my. It seems the remarkable Miss Granger does not excel in everything."

"If only she were still the remarkable Miss _Granger_," his guest grumbled.

Malfoy tilted his head in agreement. "Unfortunate though your current arrangement is, the Dark Lord is most appreciative of your sacrifice. As am I."

"What do _you_ have to be appreciative of?" the Slytherin Head asked, quiet suspicion slipping into his voice.

The wealthy wizard sighed and elegantly crossed his leg over his knee. "Were your position within the Order to be compromised, the Dark Lord would be in need of a new spy. Where do you think he might have looked?"

A few seconds passed slowly before Snape shook his head. "Narcissa would never have allowed Draco into the Dark Lord's ranks."

"I doubt there would have been much of a choice," Lucius said soberly. His expression turned a shade darker as he reached for his glass again. "Especially not with that psychotic bitch trying to sink her claws into my son."

"Trouble with the in-laws, Lucius?"

The wizard glared at his friend. "I will forever be indebted to Bella for what she did to protect my wife when she was but a girl, but you know as well as I do that the woman is positively deranged."

Severus smirked and leaned back in his chair. "At least the Dark Lord does not wish to risk the fact that you are still in good standing with the Ministry and has declared that you do not have to house the lunatic."

"Not a day passes that I don't drink to that." He took a sip of his brandy and then nodded. "I am much relieved as well that you are not as the _Prophet_ claims."

"What? Unequivocally besotted by my student?" Snape shuddered and folded his arms. "I'd rather take my chances with dear old Bellatrix."

"You're lying, old friend." Malfoy grinned and raised his tumbler. "How fortunate that you are such a terrible liar, however, or Draco would be short a godfather and I, a horrible drinking partner."

The dark-haired wizard hid his desire to laugh by glancing at the large, gilded clock above the mantle. He waited until the other man drained his glass of its contents and rose to refill it before speaking again. "I presume that I have you to thank for my continued employment."

"Mmm, I may have had some sway with the governors," Lucius nodded as he returned to his seat.

"_Some_ sway?" Severus stared at him in disbelief. "You could hardly classify it an inquiry; they were so eager to send me on my merry way."

"Well, I did tell them to put forth an effort," the man shrugged. "It wouldn't be seemly to let you off with nary a question."

"Yes, well their laughable interrogation was hardly _efforted_ - a fact that did not go unnoticed by my unfortunate bride."

"Rankled her cage a bit, did we?"

Snape grimaced. "I have never heard such screeching by a creature that wasn't currently in the throes of death."

"If I were you, I would have taken her over my knee," Lucius sneered. "Childish behavior deserves a child's punishment."

"And have her run off to Dumbledore with her tale of woe? I think not," the professor corrected. "The Dark Lord's command that she go unharmed was as much an order for me as it was for the rest of you."

"So it was," he acknowledged softly. "My apologies, Severus. I do not envy you, my friend."

The dark-haired wizard slowly raised his eyes to fix them upon his host's face. "Then perhaps you might consider relieving a bit of my burden?"

Lucius bore an uneasy expression as he swirled the contents of his glass. "And what, pray tell, would that require?"

"If you have as much sway with the governors as you lay claim to, then you are the one responsible for deciding the fate for the remainder of her education."

"The board is mine, yes," he responded slowly. "But what cause have I to allow her to return to the classroom?"

"Are we not the oldest of friends, Lucius?" Snape pandered with a smile. "Would you subject me to the torture of a hateful wife who has nothing to do all day but consider ways to spite me?"

"I would not choose that for you, no," Malfoy sighed after nearly a minute's consideration. "If only for you, I will suggest she be allowed to finish out the year without certification."

"_With_ certification," Severus amended.

Lucius took a pensive sip of his drink and then let out a measured breath. "Fine."

"And eligibility for her NEWTs."

"No." He cleared his throat and placed the glass tumbler on the table. "I draw the line at that. She will not sit her exams."

Snape narrowed his eyes and frowned. "The little swot has spent her entire academic career in anticipation of that week of absolute hell. Do you realize the headache I will suffer when she is denied that?"

"I am sorry, Severus, but I will make no further concessions for the girl." Lucius shook his head firmly. "As Draco's godfather, I am confident you will respect that decision."

The Potions Master raised one eyebrow in surprise. "What does Draco have to do with whether or not my snot-nosed bride spends all of her spare time out of my hair, studying?"

"I know you are not ignorant, Severus. Do not think that I am," Malfoy stated evenly. "Your _darling_ _wife_ has the highest marks in the whole bloody school. I would wager that they rival even yours."

Snape took in a slow breath. "Draco's marks are equally high."

"In your class, I am sure this is true. The rest of the professors, however, bend over backwards for her impure holiness."

"Perhaps prior to recent revelations," he admitted, "but surely not following –"

"I am _not_ willing to take that chance," Lucius interrupted. "Besides, her classroom marks are of little importance to me. I will not, however, have my son being outdone on the NEWTs by a mud—_Muggleborn_ witch!"

The younger wizard managed to ignore the near-slip and calmly met his friend's eyes. "When the Dark Lord succeeds, Draco will have more than earned his place in society. Granger's accreditations will be worthless. "

"And if he fails?" Malfoy questioned. "The Dark Lord has been bested by that Potter boy once already. Who is to say that dragonpox won't strike twice? My beloved father lived by that old witches' tale and look where he is now – dead at ninety-eight without even seeing his first great grandson."

Severus cleared his throat in mild surprise. "You do not have confidence in –"

"Do not twist my words," he warned. "And do not pretend that you do not have your own exit strategy. I am not fooled by your obedient act, my friend. In the event that the Dark Lord's bid for power once again goes awry, I do not doubt for one minute that you will play along as Dumbledore's faithful lapdog to procure your continued freedom."

The spy swallowed slowly, scrutinizing whether or not the pureblood posed an actual threat.

"You have the all-powerful Dumbledore to testify on your behalf," Lucius continued. "I currently have that idiot Fudge, but his reputation is on the decline since Potter's claims are no longer being discredited by the general population. That boy has repeatedly accused me publicly of being a Death Eater, and eventually they will take him at his word.

"I am not naïve in this, Severus. They will strip this family of its vaults and prestige, and I will likely face Azkaban. I will do what I can to negotiate for Draco and his mother, but his only prospects will be his NEWT scores and your word."

Snape blew out a long breath and wiped his face. "You've put a bit of thought into this."

"And from your lack of protest, I know that you have reached the same conclusion as I."

The dark-eyed man slowly nodded and glanced at the small fire burning in the grate. "Well, if the Dark Lord wanted blind loyalty, he chose the wrong House from which to recruit his followers."

Malfoy snorted softly and picked up his tumbler. "Imagine being compared to that pathetic rat of his."

Severus sneered at the image of Pettigrew snuffling at the Dark Lord's robes the way he used to do with James Potter. It was no coincidence that the man responsible for bringing Voldemort back to corporeal form was a Gryffindor. Any self-respecting Slytherin would have taken the out he was given and moved on with his life.

He also knew that Lucius's first and only true loyalty was to his family. There would be no convincing him of allowing Granger the chance to outshine his son. And frankly, if the roles had been reversed, Severus would have made the exact same call.

"For Draco, then, I will resign myself to the screeching," he sighed.

Lucius donned a small, honest smile and dipped his head in gratitude. "You will look after them should the need arise?"

Snape closed his eyes and nodded. "I will."

"And if there should be another child, you will assist Cissa with whatever she needs?"

The dark-haired wizard widened his eyes in surprise. "Is this what you meant by certain other promises?"

The aristocrat nodded. "She and I have always quarreled over the topic of more children, but with Draco out of the house most of the year, I've started to see things her way. She has a number of fertile years left; we might as well make use of them."

"I will provide for her if needed," the professor responded, leaning onto one of the armrests. "I do not, however, find it plausible that you would opt to bring a child into the world in such uncertain times without an ulterior motive."

"You, my friend, think entirely too much like a Slytherin."

"And you, my friend, behave entirely too much like a Slytherin."

Lucius snorted prior to wiping the smirk from his countenance. He waited a few seconds before responding. "They do not send expectant or nursing mothers to Azkaban."

"I see," Snape murmured.

His host held up a finger. "Not a word of it leaves this room."

"Of course."

The sound of a doorknob turning caused both men to look towards the door. A second later, Narcissa Malfoy poked her head into the room. "Lucius, are you – oh, hello Severus. I didn't know you were here."

"Narcissa," he replied with a respectful nod.

She glanced between the two men as she stepped fully across the threshold. "Well, doesn't it seem depressingly serious in here?"

Her husband forced a grin. "Just welcoming Severus to the wonders of matrimony, my dear."

The witch looked at him as though she knew better, but let a smirk grace her perfect face as she looked toward the visitor. "And what a happy occasion it must have been."

Snape snorted. "Happy would not begin to describe it."

"I recall on more than one occasion introducing you to witches that would make you a suitable wife," she chided, moving towards them. "You, however, would have nothing to do with them."

He rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Don't make that face at me, Severus Snape." She pointed her finger at him. "If you had just followed my instructions like a good little boy, you wouldn't be in this mess now."

"She does have a point," Lucius agreed as his wife perched gently on his knee.

"Knowing Dumbledore, he still would have found a way around that," Severus lamented. "I quite possibly would have been forced to entertain two demanding wives. I cannot fathom how much more horrid that would have been compared to that accursed ceremony yesterday."

"Knowing _you_, I'm sure you haven't read the _Prophet'_s account of it," Narcissa laughed. She stole a sample of her husband's brandy before reaching for the newspaper.

"Utter rubbish, I'm sure."

"I rather enjoyed it." The dainty smirk returned as she unfolded the paper and began to read. "…as her groom whispered sweet tidings into her ear, the lovely young witch gazed up at him with the purest of adoration shining in her eyes…"

Disgust was the only expression adorning his face now.

"And what were these sweet tidings you bestowed upon her?" Lucius chuckled.

Severus shrugged. "I merely inquired as to where that horrible shrub of hair had vanished."

Narcissa snorted rather inelegantly as her husband laughed loudly. She quickly scanned the article for another gem. "…not a soul in attendance could deny the love surrounding the pair as the professor swept his radiant bride into his arms. Their eyes wandered not once from the other's tender gaze, and they recognized the existence of not another living being in their private paradise as he carried her towards the truest of matrimonial bliss…"

"Perhaps it would be best to end it there, my love," Malfoy interrupted, gesturing with his head towards their friend. "Before he implodes or expels his lunch onto our fine furniture."

She glanced up at the visibly suffering wizard and sighed. "Perhaps you're right. My dear Professor, are you staying to dine with us?"

Snape sighed in relief at not having to listen to any more of the insipid article, but paused in consideration. He had not informed Granger that he would be away from the castle for any stretch of time. They had agreed earlier not to attend any of the common meals while her student status was in question, but would she be concerned over dining alone in their empty quarters?

"Or is it your most desperate of desires to return to your private paradise to enjoy the truest of matrimonial bliss with your radiant bride?"

He scowled immediately and told himself that Minerva would be likely to feed the girl anyway.

* * *

Hermione sighed as soon as she spun into McGonagall's office.

"I was wondering how long you would last," Minerva muttered from behind her desk. "I was approximately five minutes away from coming to check on you myself."

"You were?"

"Mmm," the elder witch nodded. "Professor Dumbledore mentioned how your hearing went."

The girl scowled as she stepped over toward the desk. "Can we not talk about that?"

"Alright." McGonagall leaned back in her chair. "What brings you by, then?"

Hermione silently restored the dress she had shrunk previously and held it carefully in her arms. "I came to return this."

"Ah," the witch rose from her chair and took the garment from the girl. "I think it suited you quite well, don't you? I don't think I've ever seen Severus look so speechless before."

"Well he certainly wasn't speechless today," she mumbled grumpily.

Minerva sighed as she hung up the dress on the edge of her bookshelf. "I expect not, no. Would you like to talk about _that_ instead?"

The girl shrugged as her mentor gestured to a seat. As she sat down, she leaned her head against the back of the chair and groaned. "He's completely unreasonable!"

"There are a number of us that tend to agree with that at times," the deputy headmistress smirked as she retook her own seat. "What has he done now, however?"

Hermione blew out a fast breath. "He wanted to set the ground rules for our living arrangement, which is fine, but they're all rules for _me_ to follow."

"Did he say you could not contribute to the rule-setting process?"

"Well, no," she stammered. "But he practically threatened to give me a bed time!"

The elder witch frowned, raising an eyebrow. "Practically threatened, or actually threatened?"

The girl paused mid-thought and bit her lip. "I don't know. I guess I just assumed that he meant it."

"Never assume anything when you're dealing with Severus Snape," Minerva cautioned with a small smile. "He puts on a good show, but it is usually just a show."

She wrinkled her brow in confusion. "I'm not sure that I fully understand that, but I really don't think he was kidding about everything else. I'm not allowed to do anything without permission but sit in my room. I can't spend time with Harry or Ron unless I have a female escort. And I'm supposed to be in our quarters before curfew even."

"Well –"

"He told me that I can use his first name –"

"That's something –"

"—but only so I don't bollocks it up later by calling him _Professor_ in public," she huffed.

"Oh, well –"

"And you should have heard what he said about my cat!" Hermione folded her arms crossly. "He's demanding that Crooks remain only in my bedroom and if Crooks so much as sheds, scratches, or shits near him – his words, not mine – he's kicking him out!"

Minerva snorted quietly and rubbed her temples until she was certain that the girl was finished. "While I agree that he could have handled things with more grace – and I agree that he's completely out of touch with the feline prerogative – I do think that you need to take a minute to calm down and look at this rationally."

"Rationally?" she frowned. "What do you mean 'look at this rationally'? This whole thing is irrational! I've married my professor; I'm probably getting expelled; and I'm going to have to give up my bloody cat! And on top of all that, I have to pretend that it doesn't matter to me because I'm head over heels in love with the arsehole! Where's the rational part, again?"

The elder witch stood in the middle of the tirade and walked over to the fireplace where she placed an order for tea. She then returned to her seat after the girl had finished and fixed her with a sympathetic eye. "Severus is…well, he isn't exactly a 'people person.'"

"An odd decision to go into teaching, then," Hermione muttered, glaring at the top of the desk.

"It should not surprise you, my dear, that teaching was not his first choice for employment," McGonagall sighed, tapping her fingertips on the edge of the desk. "It was a decision based purely out of necessity, I assure you.

"Returning to my original point, however," she cleared her throat as a tea service appeared on her desk with a small pop. "Severus is a highly logical person, much like yourself, but he has not had much experience in relating to other people. He generally does not do well in expressing himself in front of people he doesn't know he can trust."

Hermione's gaze snapped to the woman's face. "Why shouldn't he trust me? I'm in this mess just as much as he is. I didn't exactly arrange for this whole thing to happen."

A quirk of a smile appeared on the Scot's face as she poured two cups of steaming chamomile. "In the main, setting fire to someone does not lay the best foundation for a trusting relationship."

The brunette's eyes widened. "Honestly, does anyone_ not_ know it was me?"

"You are the brightest witch of the age," Minerva chided. "That particular incident would likely have been perpetrated by a member of one of two Houses, but seeing as your victim was the Head of one of them, it ruled out half of the suspect pool. You also made the mistake of choosing a time when the usual Gryffindor offenders were otherwise engaged or within my direct line of sight. It did not take a great leap of logic to determine the identity of the culprit."

"I only did it because I thought he was trying to hurt Harry!" she protested.

The deputy headmistress nodded, passing one of the teacups across the desk. "Which is why there is no mention of assaulting a professor anywhere in your academic report. Severus took your motive into consideration and opted not to press the issue."

"What?" Hermione's face twisted in disbelief. "He's known the entire time and hasn't said anything to me until now?"

"Unfortunately, you aren't the only student to have ever set him on fire," McGonagall said quietly. "One generally finds it easier to shrug off after repeated occurrences."

The young witch narrowed her brow and set down her tea. "But what does this have to do with his stupid rules?"

"You are as stubborn as he is," the tartan-wrapped woman shook her head and leaned back in her chair. "The public is meant to believe that the two of you share a bond greater than blood. How do you think it would look if you choose to spend your free time apart?"

The girl winced and stared at the wall before finally letting out a defeated breath. "It would seem off."

"And if you were seen in the company of other men?"

Hermione frowned and crossed her arms. "Harry and Ron are my best friends. It's not like I'm romantically involved with either of them."

"The truth matters naught in the court of public opinion, however," Minerva argued. "Thanks to that…vexing woman, you've already been intimately linked to Mr. Potter, and the entire school sees how Mr. Weasley follows you about."

"Not you, too," she whined. "Ron _isn't_ in love with me!"

"The evidence would point to the contrary. Mr. Weasley spent the weekend quarreling with students, defending your honor, and after this morning's paper came out, he has yet to say a word to anyone."

The bushy-haired girl grimaced and covered her face with her hands. "But he and I are just friends! We're not…he's not…he can't…it can't be…oh bugger. He is, isn't he?"

McGonagall's lips twitched into a smile that she hid behind her teacup as she watched her favorite student struggling to accept the revelation. After a few minutes the girl dropped her hands into her lap and met her gaze with teary-eyes.

"And he read it in the paper this morning?"

"My dear, they _all_ read it in the paper this morning. I seriously doubt there's a witch or wizard left in Britain who doesn't know you're the new Mrs. Severus Snape."

"But, I mean… is that how he found out?"

The deputy headmistress quirked an eyebrow. "I'm not sure I follow."

"I thought someone would tell Harry and Ron before…well, before they read it in the bloody _Prophet_." She sighed loudly as her shoulders slumped. "They're my best friends. Did no one tell them while I was away?"

The elder witch shook her head sadly. "I am sorry, Hermione. I should not have let the Headmaster overlook your friendship."

Hermione closed her eyes and hung her head. "Can I even tell Harry and Ron the truth, though? Or do I have to let them think the same as everyone else?"

Minerva let out a long breath and placed her tea upon the desk. "I can't imagine it would hurt anything for them to know the real story. If you would like, I can gather them from supper so you may speak with them in private."

"Erm," she chewed on her lip and wrapped her arms around her waist. "Can I wait?"

"Wait?"

"Until after my hearing's concluded," she clarified. "I'd like to find out if I'm expelled or not before I talk to them. It probably doesn't matter, but I think I'd like to worry about one horrible meeting at a time."

McGonagall nodded in understanding. "The Board of Governors are re-convening tomorrow morning? I will inform Potter and Weasley that they are to accompany me to my office immediately following Transfiguration. Since I will be present, Severus cannot raise a fuss about you being unescorted."

The girl grimaced slightly and rubbed her face. "On that note, could you have Ginny there as well?"

"I suppose it wouldn't be fair for the rest of her family to know and leave her in the dark," the woman agreed. "I will speak with Professor Flitwick and make sure he sends her up following class."

"Thank you," Hermione sighed. "And I'm really sorry about yelling earlier."

The Gryffindor Head snorted softly. "Nonsense. Severus has the uncanny ability of pulling even the most well-mannered of us witches into shouting matches. You have yet to learn how to handle him."

"And how is that?" the girl questioned quietly.

Minerva pursed her lips and glanced up at the clock. "Is he expecting you back for supper?"

"He never said as much."

"Then you will dine here," she stated matter-of-factly. "There is simply not enough time left before curfew to explain the enigma that is Severus Snape."

* * *

A few hours later, Hermione yawned and rested her head on the back of McGonagall's sofa. She let her eyes drift to where the lace-covered dress hung on the bookshelf. She gave a small smirk as she remembered the button conversation from the night before. She sighed softly and then glanced at her Head of House.

"Can I ask you something?"

Minerva amusedly raised her eyebrows. "You've been asking questions all night."

"I know," she blushed, tucking her feet beneath her. "But this isn't about Prof—erm, Severus. I was wondering if you would tell me about the man who went with that dress."

"Oh," the elder witch stammered in surprise before looking back at the gown. She was quiet for a few moments before a sad smile appeared on her face. "Someday, perhaps. It's late now, though, and I'm certain your husband will be growing impatient soon."

"I thought he was born impatient," Hermione mumbled as she rose from the couch.

"As odd as it sounds, Severus is likely the most patient man I've ever known."

"You _must_ be tired," the girl smirked. "Or have I married the wrong Severus Snape?"

McGonagall smiled and shook her head. "Give it time. He might surprise you."

The two witches exchanged good-byes and Hermione stepped back through the Floo into her new shared quarters. Her husband looked up from his book as she entered and he raised an eyebrow as he looked up at the clock.

"It's before curfew," she stated defensively, glancing at his book in mild confusion. He had not made it much farther than he had been when she left four hours earlier.

"It is," he agreed. "Did you and Minerva have a pleasant _chat_?"

She nodded hesitantly before continuing onto her bedroom. As she pushed open her door, she froze suddenly and briefly wondered if she had gone to the wrong room. After double-checking that the trunk at the foot of the bed was hers, she scrutinized the bed in surprise. When she had left before, it had been covered with the bedspread her grandmother had quilted for her when she was a little girl. In its place now was a silky-looking emerald green coverlet.

"What is that?"

Severus stood from his chair and walked towards her. When he reached the doorway, he peered in at the bed and cleared his throat. "_That_ is the hideous thing you call a cat."

Hermione glanced momentarily at the feline who was stretched to his full length as he slept upside down with his rumpled fur sticking out in all directions. She then shot a glare at the man standing behind her. "I didn't mean Crookshanks. I meant the bedcovers."

He smirked as he leaned against the door jamb. "Since you can't manage to keep yourself warm at night without causing the house-elves to double up on their laundering duties...these have a permanent warming charm stitched into them."

"Oh," she mumbled, realizing it would explain why Crooks looked absolutely dead to the world. She sheepishly met the wizard's eyes. "Thank you."

Snape gave a short dip of his head and pushed away from the door. "You may change the color if you like. I did not know what you would prefer. I had not noticed that you were particularly fond of maroon."

His wife smiled shyly and shook her head. "I actually prefer green. I was rather disappointed to read that Slytherin laid claim to my favorite color."

He grunted and glanced at her in uncertainty. When an awkward silence descended upon the room, he dropped his gaze to the floor and turned back to his chair.

Hermione bit her lip and looked to the wall. She sighed softly and was about to disappear into her room when she heard him clear his throat.

"I like blue."

"Oh?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder. "I would have assumed black."

When he gave her an irritated look, she grinned and shrugged her shoulders. "Blue's nice."

Severus rolled his eyes, reaching for his book again. He paused when she made an unintelligible sound and glanced up at her expectantly. "Yes?"

"I just wanted to…" she shifted her weight and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "…to apologize for shouting at you earlier today."

"It's fine," he muttered, flipping open to the right page when she vanished into her room. He sighed lightly a minute later when she reappeared in the doorway.

"And I'm sorry that you had to marry me."

He flicked his eyes to meet hers and then nodded.

Hermione nodded in return and made to leave again before another thought popped into her head. "And I'm sorry that I set you on fire first year."

Severus groaned and threw the book onto the couch. He settled his hands in his lap and fixed her with a pointed stare. "Anything else you feel you need to get off your chest?"

She rocked on her heels and slipped one arm across her waist. "Erm…I'm sorry for stealing from your storeroom second year. And for rendering you unconscious third year."

"If you're planning on apologizing for every transgression you've ever made in your academic career, Granger, I would advise you to save your energy. Your apologies are neither wanted nor needed."

She let out a long breath and rubbed her neck. "Alright, I'm finished. Good night."

"Good night," he mumbled with a shake of his head. When she again reappeared in the sitting room, he scowled and folded his arms across his chest. "Go to bed, Granger."

"I just have to pee," she explained gesturing to the bathroom door. "Or must I ask your permission before doing that, too?"

"Now who's being completely ridiculous?" Severus sputtered beneath his breath as the door snapped shut behind her.


	9. Insinuating Circumstances

**A/N: Long time, no write - I know. About time for an update, wouldn't you say? Thank you all for bearing with the excruciatingly long wait. Hopefully it won't take 4 months. Love you all!**

* * *

**Chapter 9: Insinuating Circumstances**

"I _like_ blue?" Severus scoffed, kicking off the bedcovers and staring at the dark ceiling of his bedroom. "Idiot."

He blew out a slow breath and ran a hand over his face. "So much for keeping your distance."

Punching the end of his pillow, he spun onto his side and groaned. He had been attempting to sleep for nearly four hours, but it had been to no avail. He kept replaying all of the day's dealings in his head and was oddly concerned over how Granger would take the news regarding her NEWTs. She really _was_ the most intelligent student under his tutelage, and, as much as she irked him in class, he was loath to see the talent wasted.

Not to mention, she was sacrificing herself to protect him as much as he was for her. For that the young witch did not deserve to have her future stolen from her.

That was partly the reason why he had dug out the self-warming coverlet and tossed it onto her bed upon returning from the Malfoys. It had been a gift to him from Lucius and Narcissa several years prior, but he had never really found the need for it. His bedroom in the house on Spinner's End was always draughty and cold in the winter, so the chill of the dungeons had never really affected him.

It was also tradition for the bridegroom to present his new wife with a gift symbolizing his promise of marriage. Regardless of the fact that he would likely never be able to afford them on his own, he had no intentions of letting re-gifted bedclothes stand representative of his marital vows. It would, however, buy him enough time to figure out something more fitting. It was not as if he had been allowed the standard time to make all of the traditional arrangements, and he knew next to nothing about the girl outside of their classroom interactions.

He had originally planned to get her eligibility to the NEWTs reinstated as his bridal gift, but since that had led to naught, the least he could do was provide her a warm bed.

"Fuck," he muttered glumly upon realizing that was not the thing to think about while in the dark and in bed. The images that had assailed him while unbuttoning her dress the night before were torturing him yet again. Groaning, Snape slammed his face into the pillow and mumbled, "Student!"

* * *

Hermione slowly stretched as she opened her eyes the next morning. At least she assumed it was morning. There were no windows in the dungeon so her room was equally as dark as it had been when she went to bed. With a small yawn, she propped herself up on her elbow and grabbed her wand from her bedside table.

After casting a _T__empus_ charm and confirming that it was, in fact, 8:17 am, she sighed and tossed back the warm coverlet. As her bare feet hit the floor, she shivered and the room suddenly became bathed in light. Wincing, she rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and quickly sought the warmth of her slippers.

Yawning once more, she stepped past her bedroom door and moved somewhat blindly toward the bathroom. Once enclosed inside the room, she quickly relieved herself before stripping out of her pajamas and climbing in the shower. After she had grabbed her personal bottle of shampoo and had decently lathered her hair with it, she heard a faint pop and sighed upon the realization that a house elf had already disappeared with her to-be-laundered clothes. She had just gotten the elves that were responsible for the upkeep of the Head Girl's quarters to not bother washing her pajamas more than once a week. Now it appeared she was going to have to start all over again with the new set of elves.

As she stepped under the water, she shook her head in disappointment. It really was a waste of their time to do it every morning, and –

Hermione froze and threw open her eyelids, only to groan when the soapy water immediately irritated her eyes. Wiping at her face, she tried to blink through the tears and then quickly washed the rest of the shampoo out of her hair. Biting down on her bottom lip, she peered around the edge of the shower curtain and moaned in frustration at the room's complete lack of clothing.

In her sleep-addled state, she had fully forgotten that she now shared quarters with her…husband. She had been so used to having her own personal bathroom that in the morning she would simply shower and re-dress in her bedroom. She did not have to worry about anyone seeing her in just a towel – except for Crookshanks, maybe. And because of that, she had not brought any clothes with her.

Not even a pair of knickers.

"Oh, bugger, bugger, bugger," she hissed under her breath. She had not brought her wand, either, so _accio_-ing an outfit was entirely out of the question. Her only hope was that the sitting room would still be empty by the time she finished showering and that she could sneak into her room undetected.

With that in mind, she concluded the remainder of her washing in a frenzied state and then clambered out of the tub in such a hurry that she nearly slipped on the tile floor and crashed headlong into the commode. With adrenaline pumping through her system, she snatched at the towel on the top of the stack and, without bothering to dry herself off, wrapped it tightly about her body.

Cracking open the door, she sighed in relief at finding the sitting room as empty as it was before. Not wishing to push her luck by dawdling in the doorway, she quickly slipped out into the larger room and hustled toward her open bedroom door.

"Damn it, Granger!" Snape cursed as he stepped out of his room, holding a squirming cat by its armpits. "Did I not tell you that this beast was to remain –"

He paused abruptly in his reprimand upon hearing her panicked shriek and all but froze in place at the sight of her barely-covered form dripping on the stone floor. As she fled to the privacy of her room, slamming the door shut behind her, the wizard stared in complete shock at the space she had just occupied.

By the time her door clicked open again, his cheeks had turned a hue normally sported by the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and his previous ire at returning from his own morning ablutions to find her cat lounging about on his pillows had been forgotten.

"Sorry," she whispered meekly without meeting his eyes as she took her familiar out of his hands. "He had to use the litter box in the middle of the night, and I guess I fell asleep before he came back."

Clearing his throat, Severus fought to regain his composure and then nodded stiffly. "See to it that it does not happen again."

As the witch nodded and shuffled back to her room, he pinched his eyes shut and stalked into the bathroom, mimicking her earlier action of slamming the door. One foot slid slightly on the wet floor, but the man neatly kept his balance. He took in a deep breath to help retain control over himself, and then immediately regretted it. The air was still warm and damp from her shower and smelled of the distinctly feminine scent he unfortunately knew well enough now to attribute to her shampoo.

And now he was forced to combat a new barrage of images of his very young – and very wet – sweet-smelling, practically naked wife.

Snape let out a shuddering groan and gripped the edges of the sink as he stared into the foggy mirror for a number of minutes.

"I'm going to hell," he muttered beneath his breath before turning to open the door and seeing Hermione blushing and gently nibbling on her lip as she stood waiting by the fireplace. With a glare tossed to the ceiling and a heavy sigh upon his lips, he shook his head. "Never mind, I'm already fucking there."

* * *

"Ah, Severus, Hermione," Dumbledore called as he stepped out of the Boardroom. "Good morning."

"Good morning," the witch replied softly while her husband grunted from several paces behind her.

With his blue eyes twinkling, the Headmaster glanced between them and shook his head in amusement. "While I – and the Board of Governors, I am sure – appreciate that the two of you are keeping the display of your affection at a minimum, I do not foresee an issue with you lending support to your wife, Severus."

Hermione could practically hear Snape's eyes rolling in his head as he suddenly appeared beside her. Chancing a glance up at him, she swallowed hesitantly when he suddenly met her gaze and then placed his hand on her shoulder.

"If you are ready, Madam Snape," Dumbledore smiled, gesturing toward the open door. "The Governors are fully assembled and prepared to deliver their decision."

Taking in a deep sigh and closing her eyes, she nodded slowly before stepping forward. As she moved, she bit down on her bottom lip and wrapped her arms about her midsection.

"Professor, Mrs. Snape – thank you for joining us this morning," Governor Rames stated without glancing up from the paper in his hand.

"He makes it sound like there's a choice," she muttered under her breath, earning herself a sharp jab in the back from her husband.

"Pardon?" the grey-haired wizard asked, finally looking in their direction.

With a grimace, she realized that she had accidentally spoken aloud and she sheepishly glanced up as Dumbledore crossed in front of her toward his seat beside the dozen men. When she caught the cautioning shimmer to his eyes, her stomach sank even further.

Snape cleared his throat as he physically guided the frowning witch into the chair and fixed her with a warning look. "My apologies, Governor. My wife is merely anxious – as am I – to put this behind us and return to our normal lives."

"Oh undoubtedly it would have been preferable to remain in bed," Governor Verpert sneered quietly, causing the three wizards nearest him to begin chuckling.

When the Potions Master silenced them with a glare, Hermione let out a shaky breath and slid her hands along the armrest of the chair. It was oddly comforting – yet frightening – to know that he exerted just as much power with respected citizens as he did with his students. She tossed him a brief smirk of gratitude before shifting uncomfortably in the chair when the eldest Governor spoke once more.

"Before we share with you our findings, Mrs. Snape, is there anything further you would care to say on your behalf?"

"Erm, yes," she nodded hesitantly, gritting her teeth slightly when Severus tightened his grip on her shoulder. In an attempt to subtly tell him to knock it off, she covered his hand with hers and squeezed it as hard as he was holding her shoulder. "I just wanted to apologize for my actions and I accept full responsibility for everything that has subsequently occurred."

As she fell silent, the hold on her shoulder relaxed greatly. Whether Snape had taken her hint or had simply been mollified by her chosen statement, she was not sure. Upon noticing the unforgiving expressions on the gathered Board members, however, she could not bring herself to let go of his hand.

"Very well, then," Governor Rames stated, folding his hands atop the sleek table. "In regards to your academic status, we as the Board of Governors concede that you did not knowingly set out to defile Hogwarts policy by involving yourself in a sexual relationship with a member of staff. Upon recognition of this truth, we cannot deny you further enrollment in and subsequent accreditation by Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Taking in a small breath, Hermione widened her eyes as she felt a small sense of hope rising within her. Before it could grow too large, however, the elder wizard continued speaking.

"That being said, Mrs. Snape, your deliberate actions did result in your violation of school by-laws and necessitated the violation of the aforementioned policy by an esteemed member of the Hogwarts faculty. In light of this, we cannot allow this matter to stand unpunished. Therefore, by unanimous decision of the Board, we find that your record of conduct as it exists demands full disqualification for any Ministry-provided exams or certifications including, but certainly not limited to, the Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests, any of the General Nomination Of Mastery Exams…"

As he rattled off the list, the witch closed her eyes and slouched against the back of the chair. Tears stung the backs of her eyes as she bit her lip, suppressing the urge to audibly whimper.

The greying man coughed quietly and paused long enough to take a sip of water from the glass in front of him. Adjusting his glasses, he picked up the list once again and mumbled to himself until finding where he had left off in his dictation. Then, clearing his throat, he continued, "…the Ministry Inquisitor Certification Exam, the Test On Auror Designations, the Standardized Test Of Accredited Teaching…"

Eventually, the wizard reached the end of the list. "If you have any questions regarding your eligibility for a particular certification, you may address your question to R. E. Vewa, Deputy Head of the Department of Ministry Certification and Examination."

"Though it would be more than safe to assume that you are now ineligible for whatever it may be," Governor Verpert smirked.

"Yes, thank you, Percy," Rames sighed before focusing his attention back on the witch seated in the middle of the room. "Furthermore, Mrs. Snape, due to your new marital status, we find you incapable of serving the students of Hogwarts in the capacity required of Head Girl and are therefore ineligible for the position. Starting immediately, the role will be filled by the Board."

The Governor rolled up the parchment in his hands, tucked it in the breast pocket of his plum velvet robes, and then cleared his throat once more. "Do you have any questions, Mrs. Snape?"

A moderately-stunned Hermione slowly shook her head. "N-no, sir."

"Then you are free to leave and may return to your classes – excluding Potions, of course – tomorrow morning." The wizard then smiled and spoke in an amiable tone. "We wish you all of the marital happiness and blessings, and we shall look forward to meeting with you in the future – in a more social setting, naturally."

Unsure of what to say, the girl nodded dumbly and allowed herself to be pulled out of the chair.

"Oh, Madam Snape?" Dumbledore called out, causing her to pause in the doorway. "If it is alright by you, I was wondering if you might allow me to borrow Severus for an hour or so this evening."

"Oh, erm," Hermione flicked her gaze up to the dark-haired wizard beside her and then nodded to the Headmaster. "That would be alright."

"Thank you," Albus smiled. "I shall look forward to seeing you tomorrow morning at breakfast. I hope you enjoy the rest of your day."

Without saying another word, she followed her husband through the Headmaster's office toward the fireplace. When they had flooed into their shared quarters, she silently stepped away from him.

Severus straightened and eyed her carefully, prepared for another banshee-like performance. When she did nothing but crumple onto the sofa, he raised his eyebrows in surprise. As she kicked off her shoes and curled into a ball with a look of despair etched onto her countenance, he opened his mouth to say something. He stopped, however, and shook his head and began moving toward his bedroom. Before he reached it, though, he paused mid-stride at the quiet sound of a sniffle.

Grimacing slightly, he turned and glanced at the oddly still form of his wife. "I am sorry, Miss Granger."

Pushing herself into a seated position, she wiped one hand under nose and shrugged. "It's not like you could have done anything about it."

With a sigh, she stood and folded her arms beneath her breasts as she walked toward her own bedroom door. "And it wasn't as though I was completely caught unaware by it, was it? I had three days to prepare for the inevitable."

The wizard watched her curiously as she pushed open the door to her room and then shut it behind her with a gentle click. Letting out a deep sigh, he wiped his face with his hand and then leaned his head against the bookcase.

Glancing down at his left hand, he scowled at the sight of four nasty little red crescent-shaped marks in his skin. As every ineligibility was listed, the witch had gripped the armrest of the chair tighter and tighter and she had done the same to his hand until the point her claws were practically digging into his flesh. With twelve pairs of critical eyes watching them – along with one pair warning him in a language of twinkles – he was unable of extracting his limb from her damaging clutches without attracting further attention.

She had not drawn blood, which was the only reason he had not shouted at her upon entering the privacy of his own sitting room. Well, that and the fact that she had just had her entire future set on fire before her very eyes. The ostentatious display of cutting off all eligibility to Ministry programs in addition to her NEWTS was too bloody pretentious to be anything but another Malfoy production. And he knew that the only thing the wealthy wizard would regret is the fact that he could not have been there to watch the show.

For a moment Severus contemplated whether he could have done anything more to dissuade Lucius from ruining the girl's life, but he quickly dismissed the notion. Malfoy would have never budged where matters of his son were concerned, and he had been lucky at all to keep her from complete expulsion from Hogwarts.

Shaking his head, the Slytherin Head pushed away from the bookshelf and turned in the direction of his office door. He was going to have to face the snot-nosed rugrats again in the morning, and there was no way in hell he was going to do it without a plethora of disparaging comments sliced across their latest essays.

* * *

Hermione sighed as she slid off of her warm bed and ambled over to the wardrobe. Spending three hours moping and napping in her room was enough. It was time to get on with her life – as devoid of promotion as it was. Upon stripping out of her blouse and skirt, she shivered lightly in the cool air and then eagerly snatched at a much more comfortable – and warmer – pair of jeans and a jumper. After putting on her tennis shoes, she scratched her head and decided she could follow McGonagall's advice and make an effort to be on good terms with her husband.

When she found the sitting room empty, she frowned and then hesitantly knocked on his bedroom door. When there was no answer, she turned around and glanced between the two doors that she was told led to either his office or his private lab. Since he had not said anything to her about her being unable to enter his office without permission, she set out in that direction.

As she gently pushed open the door, she bit her lip upon seeing the back of his head as he sat at his large, round desk.

"Yes?" the wizard asked, without turning in his seat or even looking up from his marking.

Hermione took in a small breath and stepped into the room. "I was just wondering where you had gone."

As the quill continued scratching, she watched in intrigue as the red script flowed across the page with seemingly little effort from the man holding the feather. It was surprising to her how easily the venom poured out of him. He hardly appeared to have to put any thought into it.

"That beast of yours does not provide adequate enough company that you deemed it necessary to seek out your contemptible husband?"

The girl glanced at him in uncertainty and then slowly moved about the room, donning an expression of disgust upon seeing the row of jars containing pickled dead things. "Crookshanks is adequate enough company. It was just too… erm, quiet, I guess. I don't really have anything worthwhile to occupy my mind at the moment."

"And you thought that pestering me would provide you enough entertainment to relieve you of your boredom?" Snape sneered as he reached for another parchment.

"No," she snapped irritably, causing him to glance in her direction for the first time.

The wizard relaxed upon noticing that she had forgone her earlier shapely outfit for her usual manner of dress. Clearing his throat, he leaned back in his chair. "Then what do you want?"

"Do I have to _want_ something?" she asked, picking up a random small jar and inspecting it closer.

He raised one eyebrow as he watched her set it back on the shelf and move onto the next grouping of items. "Granger…"

The witch sighed and wrapped her arms about her waist. "I don't know. Could we talk, maybe?"

"Talk?" He frowned and folded his arms. "You wish to converse with me?"

"Well I can't really _converse_ with anyone _else_ currently, can I?" she returned, glancing over her shoulder at him. "They're all in class."

Severus sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Fine. What is it you desire to _chat_ about?"

"Erm," she stalled, descending into the black armchair closest to his desk. "I guess… well… I was wondering if maybe we could talk about the ground rules."

The man scowled and shook his head. "They are not up for negotiation."

"No, I get that, sir-everus." She winced at her horrible cover-up and settled further into the chair. "And I'm okay with them – well, most of them – but I was actually wondering if maybe I could… erm… add some rules of my own."

Snape snorted under his breath at her anxious expression and leaned forward. "Such as?"

"Erm, well…" The girl scrunched up her nose as she considered the question. "You can't take points from me?"

"That has already been established," he sighed.

"It has?" she asked in surprise.

He nodded once. "Since I cannot contribute to your education any longer, I cannot remove House points from you nor can you be instructed to serve detention with me."

"Oh," she whispered. "Then would you promise not to remove points from my friends just because you are angry with me?"

He eyed her shrewdly and tilted his head. "And just how would you go about proving it if I did so?"

The witch shrugged and shook her head. "I guess I'll just have to trust you."

With a sigh, he dropped his shoulders. "Fine. You have my word."

"Thank you," she smiled.

"Anything else?"

Hermione rubbed the back of her neck and let out a deep breath. "I don't really have anything at the given moment, but if I think of something later?"

"If it's rational, I will entertain the idea," he responded.

"Your cat rule isn't rational," she pointed out somewhat grumpily.

Severus opened his mouth to retort, but hesitated when he heard her stomach growling. "Are you incapable of obtaining nourishment on your own, Granger?"

The girl scowled and folded her arms. "And just how might I have done that _on my own_? I'm not permitted to use the Floo to call the kitchens, and since I've never left your quarters by foot, I wouldn't know how to get there from here!"

Without so much as a word to her, the man stood from his desk and strode toward the fireplace. Shortly after he placed an order for lunch, a platter of sandwiches appeared near the edge of his desk and he gestured impatiently for her to eat. "Well, go on then."

Leaning forward to grab a sandwich, she frowned at watching him go back to marking essays. "Aren't you eating?"

"I already ate."

"When did you eat?" she asked after swallowing a decent-sized bite of bread, ham, and cheese.

The wizard sighed as he scratched nasty comments at the bottom of another essay. "About ninety minutes ago."

Hermione paused mid-bite and narrowed her eyes. "And you didn't think to offer me anything?"

"I apologize," he stated blandly, reaching for another essay. "It did not cross my mind."

Scowling, the witch finished her first sandwich and reached for another. A few seconds after polishing off that sandwich, she was startled when a barn owl swooped out of the fireplace and released a package from its talons. When the package hit the desk with a heavy thump, she jumped and watched the owl disappear back up the Floo.

Feeling her heart beating faster than usual, she glanced curiously towards the package and widened her eyes when she realized it was addressed to _**Madam Hermione J. Snape**_.

"_Don't_ touch that," Severus snapped as he managed to sense her reaching towards it.

"It's addressed to me," she challenged.

His dark eyes flicked up to hers in response. "And the bubotuber pus was addressed to whom again?"

With a grimace she snatched her hand back and glared at the box. "You think it's dangerous?"

The wizard gave a sigh and pushed the stack of essays out of the way. He cast a few diagnostic spells, which yielded nothing threatening, and then pulled the box towards him. Upon detaching the accompanying letter, he rolled his eyes and handed it to her.

"It's from the Malfoys?" she exclaimed nervously. "Tell me that you're going to check it again!"

"Granger, it's not going to injure you," he muttered, slicing open the box with a small knife. "Offend you, perhaps, but the Dark Lord has demanded that you remain physically unharmed."

Reading the false sugary greeting once more, she shivered and then crumpled up the letter and lobbed it in the fire. Peering over the edge of the box, she raised one eyebrow. "They sent me books as a wedding present?"

Severus glanced briefly at the title of the first book and quickly leafed through the pages. With a smirk, he tossed it onto the desk in front of her. "Now you have your chance to read all about Wizarding marriage customs."

"_Of Ribbons, Roses, and Rings: Your Guide to a Happy Magical Marriage_?" She glanced up at him. "Do I even want to read this?"

"That is entirely your decision, Granger – oh for fuck's sake!" he growled as he pulled the expensive paper from the cover of the second book. Without warning, he launched the volume into the fireplace to burn beside the letter.

Raising her eyebrows, Hermione glanced into the fire and felt her cheeks grow as hot as the flames that licked at the edges of the book. The title, _Of Consummation, Copulation, and Conception: Your Guide to a Happy Magical Marriage-bed, _glinted in gold letters along the spine for nearly a minute before finally succumbing to its charred fate.

With an uncomfortable cough, she snatched the other book from his desk and moved toward the door back to their sitting room. Placing her hand on the doorknob, she paused and glanced back to see him pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Severus?"

"Yes?" he replied irritably.

She chewed on her lip and leaned against the door. "Professor McGonagall is bringing Harry, Ron, and Ginny to her office so I can talk to them before having to deal with everyone else."

"And you are telling me this _why_?"

She shifted slightly on her feet. "I just wanted to make sure that you were okay with that."

"I have no issue with it," he remarked after a few seconds' contemplation.

"May I use the Floo, then?"

He nodded as he removed the box from his desk and pulled his chair closer to him. When she opened the door, he cleared his throat. "Granger."

"Yes?" she responded, pausing in the doorway.

Snape sat in his chair and picked up his quill once more. "I am willing to compromise on the extent of your familiar's stomping grounds. He is still not permitted in my bedchambers, lab, or office, but he may lounge about in the sitting room to his heart's content."

The witch widened her eyes and allowed a smile to spread on her face. "Thank you…Severus."

"There is one condition, however," he added, dipping his quill in the well of red ink.

"And that is?" she ask in hesitation.

"You will agree to never step foot into common areas unless you are appropriately dressed."

The girl blushed and ducked her head. "Deal."

* * *

At the sound of the door opening, Hermione slowly stood from her chair and chewed on her bottom lip as her two best friends filed into the room in front of the Deputy Headmistress. As Ron was chatting over his shoulder with Harry, he was not the first to see her.

"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed in surprise, causing the redhead to snap his eyes in her direction.

She attempted a smile, but it faltered as soon as she saw the look that crossed Ron's face at the sight of her.

A knock sounded on the door a few seconds later, and McGonagall opened it to reveal a confused Ginny. "Professor Flitwick said that you wanted to see me?"

As the elder witch instructed her to enter the room, Harry shifted his attention, but Hermione shifted uncomfortably at the silent, accusing glare Ron continued casting in her direction.

"Hermione!" Ginny called, her eyes widening.

"Hi," she responded, glancing nervously at each of their faces. "I really needed to speak with you all."

"If you're announcing your recent marriage," Harry mumbled bitterly, "we already know. It was in the paper."

"I know, and you have no idea how sorry I am that you had to hear about it like that." She ducked her head and wrung her hands anxiously. "I know that I owe you all an explanation."

"You think?" Ginny blurted, leaning against one of the chairs.

"Again, I'm really sorry –"

"_Sorry_?" Ron sneered. "Was it all just an act, then? 'Hermione Granger wronged by the _Prophet_ yet again', when the whole time you were shagging the bastard like a bloody harlot!"

"Mr. Weasley!" Minerva shouted. "You will keep a civil tongue in your head or you will find yourself booted out on your arse!"

Hermione glanced to the floor, her face flushed in both shame and anger. "It's not what you think, Ronald. It wasn't an act – I mean, it _is_ one now, but it wasn't then!"

"What do you mean 'it is one now'?" Harry asked.

The brunette sighed and flexed her hands. "Everything Rita Skeeter wrote _was_ a lie. Severus and I –"

"Severus?" Ron spat, while the other two Gryffindors grimaced uncomfortably.

"P-professor Snape," she corrected with a wince. "_Professor Snape_ and I were never in a relationship, but because… because of everything that was written, the Order decided that it would be best to 'submit to expectations'. Professor Dumbledore concocted the whole soul mate potion explanation in an effort to…turn the tide of the press, I guess. There really wasn't another option."

"The other option was the truth, wasn't it?" he sputtered.

Hermione buried her hands in her hair. "You don't understand, Ronald – the truth would have crippled the Order and probably very likely gotten Professor Snape killed!"

"Oh, so you think you're _saving_ him by letting him –"

"One more word on that line of thought, Weasley, and I'll have your mother here in the matter of seconds," McGonagall interrupted.

"Shut it, Ron," Ginny hissed, smacking him on the shoulder. "Let her bloody speak."

"Thank you," Hermione whispered.

Harry glanced in concern at his best friend's angry face, and then scratched his head and sat down in the chair next to Ginny. "Well, we know what happened right after Skeeter's article, so why don't you start with what happened after Dumbledore sent us back to class."

When McGonagall nodded to her, Hermione sighed and dropped into her own chair. "Okay."

As she explained everything she thought could be shared with them, she noticed with some relief that Harry's and Ginny's guarded expressions melted into concerned ones, and even Ron's anger appeared to deflate into misery.

"So now you have to pretend to be controlling your affection around Snape at the same time that you're pretending to actually have affection for Snape?" Ginny asked. When the other girl nodded, she gave a large sigh. "No offense, Mione, but I'm glad it's not me."

The brunette snorted and rubbed her face. "None taken."

"He has to be decent around you, doesn't he?" Harry asked, folding his arms. "He isn't going to continue treating you like he has in class, is he?"

"N-no, he's been…erm…tolerable, I suppose," she replied thoughtfully. "In fact, of the two of us, I've done the majority of the shouting."

"He can't take points?" Ginny questioned.

Hermione shook her head. "Not from me, nor can he give me detention. And he's promised that he won't take it out on any of you, either."

"Fat chance there," Ron muttered, glaring at the floor. A minute later, he gave a defeated sigh and glanced up at her. "_Are_ you sleeping with him?"

The witch winced at his dejected tone and opened and closed her mouth in uncertainty. On the one hand, she wanted her friends to know that the marriage was not actually being consummated, but on the other hand, she knew there would be a risk of it slipping out of Ron's mouth later in mixed company. If rumors of that were to spread, there was a disturbing possibility – in her own mind, at least – of having to prove otherwise.

As she noticed her student stumbling over how to answer the question, Minerva cleared her throat. "I believe that is a private matter to be kept between husband and wife."

Though Ginny wrinkled her nose and the boys groaned in disgust, Hermione tossed the professor a grateful look. Since McGonagall knew the truth regarding their sleeping arrangements, she took it as a sign that the woman agreed with her decision to keep her friends in the dark.

"Soo…" the youngest Weasley mumbled, attempting to get back to a safer topic. "You're definitely not expelled?"

"No, not expelled."

A grin broke out on the younger girl's face. "Suck that, Morag McHag-face!"

"Ginevra Weasley!" McGonagall stammered.

"Sorry," she stated sheepishly. "I forgot you were there, Professor. But seriously – Ravenclaw's going to be pissed!"

Hermione sighed and leaned her head against the back of the chair. "Yeah, but since I'm barred from the NEWTs, it doesn't really matter."

"No NEWTs?" Harry exclaimed with wide eyes. "But…you're Hermione Granger!"

"Not anymore, I'm not," she muttered bitterly, staring at her fingernails.

"You're really taking one for the team, aren't you?" Ginny shook her head. "No NEWTs _and_ having to bonk Snape."

"Weasley!"

"Sorry, Professor."

Harry smirked at his girlfriend and then leaned forward in his chair. "What did your parents say?"

The witch blew out a long breath and shook her head. "They don't know yet. I haven't quite figured out how to tell them."

"Maybe they can read about it in the paper," Ron grumbled quietly.

"Ron," Harry cautioned.

"I really didn't mean to keep you out of the loop!" Hermione lamented, rubbing her thighs. "I couldn't exactly tell you myself, since I was stuck at Headquarters, but I assumed that someone would have told you. I mean, your parents and brothers were there – for Merlin's sake, your dad gave me away!"

"I know," he griped, crossing his arms. "I read his interview on page five."

"I'm _sorry_, Ron!" she cried, throwing her hands up in the air. "I'm sorry that no one told you, okay? I can't say it any clearer than that!"

"Ron, let up," Ginny groused, crossing over to Hermione's chair and perching on the armrest. "She's said she's sorry, and it really wasn't her fault anyway."

The boy huffed bitterly, but shrugged. "Sorry."

His sister rolled her eyes and leaned closer to her friend. "He'll come around…when he _stops_ being such a _prat_!"

Harry snorted, earning himself a glare from his best friend.

"Anyway," Ginny stated, holding out her hand. "Does this disturbing set of nuptials come with a ring?"

Shaking her head in disbelief, Hermione lifted her left hand and placed it in the other girl's.

"Holy shit!" the redhead gasped, yanking the sparkling emerald and diamonds – along with the limb it was attached to – closer to her face. At McGonagall's groan, she turned and held up Hermione's hand. "Have you _seen_ this thing?"

Minerva gave an amused snort and shook her head as she walked back to her desk.

"Fake marriage; serious stone," Ginny muttered, twisting the other girl's hand and watching the ring catch the light. "Oh, I bet this definitely makes it easier to do the deed."

"For Merlin's sake," the Deputy Headmistress sighed, grabbing her forehead.

"No offense, Professor, but if you were really that upset, you would have taken points by now."

"Do not tempt me, Miss Weasley," the elder witch replied. "The only thing saving you right now is that Slytherin is beating us by over a hundred points."

The girl sighed and let go of Hermione's hand. "Since you can't lose points from him, I suppose that means you can't earn them from him either."

"GINNY!" Harry and Ron shouted in unison, while Hermione blushed and squeezed her eyes tightly shut.

"What?" she glanced in confusion at everyone's faces, and then suddenly her eyes widened in realization. "Oh, Merlin. I didn't mean it like _that_! I just meant…well, of the four of us, she's the only one who has ever earned points in Snape's class. You're all sick, you know that?"

"It'll be even worse tomorrow," Harry mumbled.

As Hermione groaned and covered her face with her hands, all three of her friends donned matching looks of sympathy.

"Don't worry," Ginny cooed, patting her on the head. "Anyone says anything, we'll hex them."

"I did not just hear that, Miss Weasley," McGonagall called.

The redhead grinned in a manner eerily reminiscent of her elder twin brothers. "Hear what, Professor?"


	10. And So The Battle Begins

**A/N: Thank you all for reading and reviewing! I love the fact that so many of you care about my stories to the point that you take the time to address any negative reviews I get. It doesn't matter what you write - someone will dislike it - but it makes me feel so much better to envision this little army of supporters standing behind me. You guys are awesome.  
**

**One of those critical reviews, however, led me to defend the "political climate" of this story. As I mentioned earlier, this story stops following canon partway through 5th year, so it doesn't jive with JKR's plot developments. Since there was no battle at the Ministry and Voldemort was never exposed (revealing Malfoy's true allegiances to everyone), in my mind Dumbledore hasn't regained the sort of clout he does in canon. I alluded to Harry having gradually gained listeners, which is why Malfoy is making contingency plans, and so I imagine that Dumbledore would also be slowly regaining favor. And Hermione only has a stellar reputation where we the readers of HP are concerned. The public at large knows next to nothing besides what was published earlier in the _Daily Prophet. _**

**I hope that makes sense to those of you who are enjoying the story and to anyone who may be questioning just how "far-fetched" it is. Thanks again!  
**

* * *

**Chapter 10: And So The Battle Begins  
**

Hermione huffed grumpily and glared at the closed bathroom door. She had stepped out of her room half an hour before and was just in time to see the door close behind Snape. Now that she had already dressed in her school uniform, had attempted to manage her hair, and had readied her school bag, she was growing impatient.

As was her bladder.

When another muscle contraction sent warning to the rest of her body, she whimpered slightly and shifted her weight onto the other foot.

"This is ridiculous!" she hissed. With a determined look on her face, she marched up to the door and pounded her fist against it. "Hurry up, _please_!"

A second later, the door was ripped open to reveal Snape's glowering face. His hair was damp from a shower, and the top two buttons of his white shirt were undone, as was the buckle on the belt that was threaded through his black trousers. One cheek was still covered in shaving lather, and he held a razor in his hand. "What is your problem?"

The witch frowned at his snappish tone, and crossed her arms defiantly. "I _have_ to use the bathroom."

"Can't it wait five bloody minutes?" he grumbled.

"In five minutes, it will be on your floor!" she barked, pointing to the ground. "I think _that_ might violate your neat and orderly clause, now wouldn't it?"

Scowling, the man snatched a towel from the rack and pushed past her into the sitting room. "Be quick about it, then."

"You're one to talk," she muttered under her breath. "You take longer than Lavender does."

Before Severus had a chance to retort, she slammed the door and made a bee-line for the commode. After quickly relieving herself, she purposely took three times as long as normal to wash her hands, and then her face. And when she brushed her teeth, she took particular care in making sure that every single tooth received more attention that it probably deserved.

With a smirk on her face, Hermione wet her hands and ran them through her unruly hair. She held her curls up on one side of her head for a minute or so, and then again on the other side of her head. After gathering it into her hands to mimic tying it back, she sighed and then let it drop into place once more. Shaking it out, she shrugged and left the bathroom with her hair identical to how it had been going in.

Her disobedient glee, however, was dashed as soon as she noticed Snape sitting on the sofa, seeming clean-shaven and perfectly unaffected in his immaculately pressed robes. With a pout, she tugged on the hem of her skirt to even it out a little better, and checked that her shirt was tucked in as neatly as it could have been.

"Are you nearly ready?" the wizard asked in a bored voice.

Hermione dropped her jaw in disbelief and then sullenly snatched her school robes off of the seat of the armchair. "I thought _you_ had to finish shaving."

"I cast a reflection charm on the wall," he replied matter-of-factly as he stood from his seat.

"Oh, discovered magic, have you?" she mumbled, fastening her robes.

Severus narrowed his gaze and folded his arms against his chest. "I stand by my earlier characterization of your morning persona."

The girl frowned. "I'm hungry, I couldn't sleep last night, and _you_ made me wait more than half an hour to use the bloody bathroom. Of course I'm going to be _cranky_!"

"Well, if you weren't sleeping when you should have been, I don't see what prevented you from using the bathroom earlier," he smirked.

"Were you born an arse, or is this just a finely honed skill?" she queried before thinking and winced visibly as she picked up her book bag. When she moved to throw it over her shoulder, he caught her wrist, and her life flashed before her eyes. However, when all he did was remove the bag from her hand, she blinked at him in shock.

"Years of practice. Though, I can assure you there was something there originally upon which to build," he sneered, tossing the strap over his own shoulder. "Shall we feed you then before you disembowel the next individual unlucky enough to draw your attention?"

When she opened her mouth to respond, he rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes – _I'm_ one to talk. That being said, it's much less attractive coming from someone of your…stature."

"I have news for you," she grumbled, feeling suddenly invincible, "it isn't all that attractive coming from someone of _your_ stature either."

Snape raised one eyebrow. "Apparently, _you_ must have thought otherwise."

"Oh, ha _ha_," she spat. At the rumbling of her empty stomach, she sighed. "Can we go now?"

Giving a stiff nod, he walked to the door leading to the hallway and held out his arm for her.

Hermione scrunched up her nose, grabbing hold of his hand instead. "You're supposed to be madly in love with me, remember? You're not escorting me to the Yule Ball."

With a shuddering sigh, he linked his fingers through hers and then pulled open the door. "Now pay attention so you don't get lost when walking on your own."

"Well, if I don't remember, can't I just cut through your office?" she posed as they started down the stone hallway. "I mean, I _know_ where _that_ is."

"Fine," he grunted. "Though it may behoove you to know an alternate route."

"I'm paying attention," she exhaled. "Just in case it may _behoove_ me."

Severus snorted and flexed his fingers briefly in her grasp. It had only been a matter of minutes, and already his palms were beginning to moisten.

"You have really warm hands," she remarked off-handedly.

"Are you honestly complaining about –"

"I'm not _complaining_, Severus," she interrupted, smiling and leaning against him slightly. "I happen to _like_ your warm hands."

The wizard widened his eyes in utter confusion until he noticed her subtly tilting her head in the direction of the staircase they were approaching. Glancing in that direction, he happened to catch the shocked expressions of two of his fifth-year Slytherins before they disappeared up the staircase in a panic.

"You're disturbingly good at that, Granger," he whispered when he was certain no one was within earshot.

The girl shrugged and put more space between them. "I was roommates with Lavender Brown for six years. I was bound to pick up some of her habits."

"As long as you use your powers for good," he sighed.

"Is that jealousy, I detect?" she asked with a quirk of her eyebrows. "You should know better, _darling_. I only have eyes for you."

Severus glanced about the hallway, but when he saw no one, he eyed her in confusion.

"Just practicing," she winked, though on the inside she was screaming at herself to keep her mouth shut.

Rolling his eyes, the man grimaced. "I think I preferred the cranky wife."

"Oh?" she breathed. A modicum of relief settled into her system when she noticed the corners of his mouth were upturned in a smirk.

"Then I can be assured that you haven't been switched out by a Metamorphagus body double."

Hermione laughed at the reference to Tonks and then blushed at the memories of the pink-haired Auror's comments regarding the man currently holding her hand. "She wouldn't have waited nearly as patiently as I did. She would have just jumped you in the shower."

After choking slightly on his own saliva, the professor glanced down at his wife in shock. She glanced at the floor and then shyly flicked her gaze in his direction.

"I haven't had any sleep, remember?" she stated by means of an explanation. "My filters are rather non-functional in that situation."

As he pondered that statement, she sighed and rolled her shoulders. "Where am I to sit? With you, or with Gryffindor?"

"The Headmaster has decided to leave the choice entirely up to you," he replied, narrowing his eyes at a trio of gaping Hufflepuffs.

The young witch took in a deep breath as she contemplated her options. If she sat at the staff table, she would be on display for the entire school, but if she sat at the Gryffindor table, there would be next to no buffer for any student comments. It would also be that much harder to keep up the pretense of being _that_ in love with Snape. Holding hands and flirty banter, strangely enough, she could do; longing glances across the Great Hall, not so much.

Gripping his hand tighter, she sighed and felt her stomach twist at the sight of students stopping dead in their tracks in the Entrance Hall. "Can I sit with you, then?"

"Of course, Hermione."

Glancing up at him in surprise, she nearly dropped her jaw at the hint of a smile on his face. When he squeezed her hand in reminder, she recovered and gave him a nervous grin in return.

"Sweet Nimue, he's actually smiling, and no one's dead!" a voice whispered harshly.

"Yet," another added. "Weasley looks pretty close, though."

It took every effort for Hermione not to cringe at the dark glare her husband suddenly shot over her head at the group of Slytherin girls gathered outside of the door to the Great Hall.

"Sorry, sir," the girls mumbled in unison, ducking their heads as they passed into the room.

"Brace yourself," Severus muttered just loud enough for his wife to hear over the hum of noise spilling out from breakfast. When she bit her lip and nodded, he pulled open the door and allowed her to step through ahead of him.

Hermione swallowed in fear when the lively chatter of the room suddenly died. When the Potions Master pulled on her hand and began walking confidently toward the dais, she shuffled her feet for the first few steps before she managed to meet his stride.

She could feel every eye on her as she grabbed onto Snape's arm with her free hand. It was unnerving to be able to hear her own footsteps over the rest of the noise in the room. It was even more unnerving, however, to note that the wizard she was attached to did not even appear to notice.

As she risked a small wave to her friends, she had to bite back hurt feelings when Ron refused to even look up from his plate. Letting out a quick breath, she looked up at her husband and forced a smile onto her face. A second later, the awkward silence in the room was broken by the clearing of a throat.

"If everyone would join me in welcoming back Professor Snape and his lovely bride, Hermione," he smiled, bringing his hands together. McGonagall immediately joined him, followed quickly by the rest of the staff. The Slytherin and Hufflepuff tables started a round of polite applause, and Gryffindor gradually participated, though none were as enthusiastic as Ginny and Harry. No one at the Ravenclaw table made an effort to join in celebrating their return, until Flitwick caught the eye of a few seventh years with a very deliberate stare.

When the couple reached the platform, Severus pulled out the chair next to Professor R. P. Laizment, the newest Ministry-appointed Defense instructor, and waited until Hermione had released his hand and sat down before he set down her bag and took the chair beside her. As they were seated, the applause died away when Dumbledore waved his hands.

"As I am sure many of you will be happy to hear, your Potions lessons will resume henceforth," he smiled.

As sounds of moderate excitement rippled across the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables, and groans of disgust came from Gryffindor, the Potions Master snorted quietly behind his coffee cup, causing his wife to glance at him in surprise.

"I have one further announcement for you all this morning," the Headmaster said cheerfully. "Since our current Head Girl has moved on to a new position, as it were –"

Hermione flushed at the sound of snickering from the nearest tables.

"—she has most graciously decided to hand off her duties to another deserving candidate. It is with great pleasure that I announce that Miss Lisa Turpin has been selected as the new Hogwarts Head Girl."

When a slender blonde witch stood from her seat beside Terry Boot and Morag MacDougal and gave a small wave, cheers broke out from the rest of the Ravenclaw table and a rather audible curse came from the direction of Ginny Weasley.

"Miss Turpin will post her office hours outside of her new quarters by the end of the day," the elder wizard added before instructing everyone to return to their meals.

As the steady drone of student voices filled the room once again, Hermione shifted in her chair and attempted to ignore the dozens of stares in her direction. Shivering lightly, she wiped her sweaty hand on her robes and then eagerly began filling her plate.

She had just shoved a large forkful of eggs into her mouth when a throat cleared beside her. She looked up with wide eyes as the Defense Instructor leaned closer to her.

"Congratulations, my dear," he smiled. "I have heard on several accounts that it was a lovely wedding."

The witch struggled to swallow her food quickly and covered her mouth politely with her hand. "Erm, thank you, Professor."

"Please, call me Rodger."

Hermione's eyebrows shot to her forehead and she glanced awkwardly at Severus for assistance.

The Potions Master cleared his throat and glared over her head. "I do not believe that would be entirely appropriate, _Rodger_. For as long as my wife sits as a student in your classroom, propriety will be observed."

"Oh, quite right, Severus," the man nodded as though he had not just been the one reprimanded. "It is always refreshing to see a young couple such as yourselves adhering to tradition."

"_Excuse_ me?" the girl hissed, "But –"

Severus sucked in a breath and squeezed her knee beneath the table.

"—could you perhaps…erm, pass the salt?" she recovered, plastering on another fake smile as she suppressed the urge to slap his hand away from her leg.

"Oh, certainly," Laizment nodded, reaching for the shaker nearest him and setting it in front of her plate. "Though my sister – who is a Healer, by the way – always claims witches ought to limit their salt intake, I think I can indulge you this once. I am sure it would take much more than a few sprinkles of salt on your eggs to ruin that lovely figure."

Hermione was practically vibrating with indignation, which only increased with another sharp squeeze to her knee. Gritting her teeth, she picked up the salt shaker and cleared her throat.

"Oh, no, it isn't for _me_, Professor," she shook her head, donning a syrupy sweet tone. "You see, Severus has confessed to me that he simply cannot stand his eggs to be unseasoned."

She turned to glance up at her husband and batted her eyelashes. "Isn't that right, darling?"

Snape made an unintelligible grunt and glared at his plate as she began heavily doctoring his food.

His wife ignored his distress and glanced back at the Defense Instructor. "Rather than offend the house-elves – which is a trait of his that I find undeniably agreeable – he has opted to suffer on in silence all these years. But I would be remiss in my responsibilities as his wife to allow his suffering to continue, would I not?"

"Oh, indeed you would," Laizment agreed.

"Hermione," the other wizard cautioned, leaning close to her. "You grow too bold."

"Oh, nonsense, Severus!" his colleague chuckled. "Your wife is quite the charming young lady, and I believe you should be thankful for that streak of boldness, for without it, who knows how long you would have pined away before realizing that your soulmate has been under your nose the entire time."

"Hmm, well," Snape drawled, eyeing her momentarily before glancing back at Rodger. "I suppose I am equally grateful for her sense."

When Hermione glanced at him with a curious expression, he raised his eyebrows and smirked. "Merlin forbid what might have had to transpire had she not had the sense to wait until _after_ reaching her majority to demonstrate her superior brewing skills."

The witch's eyes widened at the implication of his statement and immediately averted her gaze to her plate. Her stomach felt suddenly queasy at the thought that Rita could have alleged a relationship between the two of them years before—during the Tri-Wizard Tournament even. Glancing surreptitiously down the length of the staff table, she caught sight of Professor Dumbledore watching them and she wondered if – had that been the case – he would have deemed it necessary to implement the same cover story.

Shivering lightly, she dropped her eyes back to her food and glumly picked up her fork. With the thought of having to marry Snape at fifteen suddenly floating about in her head, however, she found that she was no longer hungry. Sighing, she looked up at her husband and narrowed her eyes slightly upon seeing the amused expression on his face. Resting her elbows on the table, she leaned into him and dropped her voice so only he could hear.

"_That_ isn't funny."

His smirk widened as he picked up his coffee mug once more and then dipped his head in her direction. "Is that so? Have you suddenly found your delicate appetite as_saulted_?"

Hermione sucked in a heated breath and moved away from him, only to have him lean towards her and whisper in her ear.

"Now we're even… _darling_."

Her cheeks flamed in frustration as he leaned back in his chair. At the sound of a fork clattering somewhere in the hall, a devious thought sparked in her head as she remembered the breakfast conversation from the morning of her wedding day.

"Well, if that's what you want, it would be in your best interest to eat now," she stated in a whisper just loud enough to be overheard by the nearest few staff members. "You could certainly stand the calories, love. You'll be burning them off soon enough."

As Severus had been in the midst of drinking his coffee, he ended up spraying a mouthful of his hot beverage back into his mug and down the front of his robes. Vanishing the mess, he glanced up and noticed that a number of his colleagues were shifting uncomfortably in their seats. With wide eyes, he cleared his throat. "Keep your voice down."

The witch feigned embarrassment and innocently glanced around at the staff. "Sorry."

She then flashed him a challenging look before eagerly tucking into her breakfast.

Snape eyed her in disbelief for several seconds, and when he looked away, he happened to catch sight of the smug expression on Minerva's face. Grumbling internally, he grimaced and begrudgingly picked up his fork. As he attempted to choke down his overly-salted meal, he knew without question that the little witch had won that round.

* * *

Hermione's victory was short-lived, however, for as soon as she was down from the dais and out of Snape's sight, she had to face the student body. The whispers in the hallways and before classes were similar to her experience during the Tri-Wizard Tournament, but the staring was so much worse. In fact, she was quite certain that she could have walked into class after her Polyjuice debacle and attracted less attention than she did now.

"If everyone would please face the front of the classroom," McGonagall chastised as she strode down the middle of the room, "we could begin."

The young Gryffindor witch sighed in relief as the dozen pairs of eyes that were on her suddenly averted to the professor. As the lesson got underway, the unsettling feeling in her stomach gradually dissipated and she was almost able to ignore the random glances in her direction. When the session was nearly over, she felt confident enough to raise her hand in response to one of Professor McGonagall's questions.

The Deputy Headmistress smiled and gestured to the girl. "Yes, Miss Granger?"

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the loud clearing of a throat from the back of the classroom.

"Pardon the intrusion, Professor," Draco Malfoy smirked, "but I do believe she would prefer to answer to a different title these days."

As a round of soft giggles broke out from the rest of the students – besides Harry, Ron, and Neville – the girl felt her face flush, and she sunk down in her chair.

"Quiet!" Minerva stated, effectively silencing the room. "You are correct, Mr. Malfoy, and for that I do apologize, Madam Snape. Would you still care to share your reply with the rest of the class?"

Swallowing back her apprehension, Hermione focused on the apologetic expression on the instructor's face before nodding and quickly mumbling her answer.

"Correct," the Transfiguration Professor smiled. "Five points to Gryffindor."

The girl closed her eyes and ducked her head for the remaining handful of minutes of the class. As soon as it was dismissed, she launched out of her seat, grabbed her bag, and fled the room as quickly as she could walk.

"Hermione, wait up!" Harry cried, pushing his way through the crowd of students with Ron and Neville hot on his heels. As soon as he was free of the room, he sprinted along the edge of the hallway and caught up to her on the staircase. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she hissed quietly, resting against the stone banister. "I just need a moment to breathe before Defense."

"Almost too bad you couldn't take a longer honeymoon, eh?" he stated, smiling hopefully.

She rolled her eyes at his attempt at humor and then rubbed her forehead. "I highly doubt it would have been any better if I had."

"No," he shook his head, "I'm sure it wouldn't have."

"Look, all I'm saying is they have a point," Ron mumbled to Neville as they approached.

The chubbier wizard shook his head and adjusted his bag. "But it's a ridiculous argument. Just because she isn't living in Gryffindor Tower doesn't mean she isn't one of us. She can still earn points."

"Is that what they're saying now?" Hermione snapped, causing both boys to glance in her direction.

"Erm, yeah," Neville mumbled sheepishly. "The Ravenclaws were complaining in the hallway, but it's utter rubbish if you ask me."

"Thank you, Neville," she stated, shooting a glare at the redhead. "I'm glad someone is on my side."

Ron narrowed his eyes slightly and huffed. "I didn't say I wasn't on your side, Hermione. I just said that –"

"That they had a point when they said that I don't belong with the rest of you?" she interrupted. "Yes, I had gathered that already."

"Oi! I was just playing Demon's solicitor, alright?" he snapped. "I didn't mean anything against you."

"Devil's advocate," Harry corrected.

"What?"

"The term is Devil's advocate," he clarified, "not Demon's solicitor."

Ron frowned in confusion and glanced toward Neville who shook his head. "Nah, Harry, it's definitely Demon's solicitor."

"Whatever!" Hermione shouted, throwing her hands up in the air. "They both mean the same thing, so it doesn't bloody matter if you use the Muggle expression or the Wizarding one! The point, Ronald, is that I have enough people arguing against me and I don't need you doing it as well! Whether you mean it or not!"

"Fine," he snapped. "I'm sorry, okay?"

"Oh-ho-ho, what have we here?"

All four Gryffindors looked in the direction of the new voice and cringed at the appearance of their least favorite Slytherin trio.

"A little ex-lovers spat?" Malfoy drawled as he stepped closer and then leered suggestively at Hermione. "Or has someone finally explained that the term 'Head Girl' doesn't actually require sucking off one's professor?"

The witch flashed red and balled her hands into fists. As Crabbe and Goyle laughed, she could see her three friends struggling to keep their tempers in check. Sucking in a deep breath, she pointedly met Draco's eyes and forced a smile onto her face. "Well, I guess I understand now why _you_ haven't put up more of a fuss over not being picked for Head Boy."

She felt a small twinge of success at the look of horror that appeared on the blonde's face and strode away from the group before he could fully recover. Harry, Ron, and Neville exchanged looks of amused amazement and scampered after her, leaving Malfoy to slap his dense, giggling henchmen into silence. Unsurprisingly, they were too dim-witted to understand the insinuation contained within her retort.

"Hermione, that was brilliant!" Harry declared as Neville nodded emphatically.

Ron snickered and glanced over his shoulder at the Slytherins before shifting his attention back to his friends. "Did you see the look on his face? He seriously wasn't expecting that."

"That ought to make him think before –"

"No, it won't," she sighed morosely. "And he's in all of my afternoon classes."

Harry gave her a sympathetic look and patted her shoulder. "We won't let him bother you in Charms."

"But what about Arithmancy?" she groaned as anxiety began building. "Or Ancient Runes? Oh god, I shouldn't have said that."

"You'll be okay," he replied with a smile, "and if you need, Ron and I will sort him out later."

Hermione gave a sad grimace as her two best friends stepped past her into the Defense classroom. Hanging back for a moment to gather her courage before facing another round of stares, she flicked her nervous gaze in Neville's direction.

The boy glanced around briefly before leaning closer to her and dropping his voice. "After Defense, you should go see him."

"What?" she asked. "See who?"

Neville shifted uncomfortably and blushed. "Professor Snape."

When she narrowed her eyes in confusion, he took in an unsteady breath and scratched his head. "I mean…well… as much as I dislike him, he's your soul mate. You're upset, and he should be able to help, right? I read that a person feels better when they're with their soul mate."

Hermione found herself smiling at the boy. He was not aware that the story was only a story, but still was on her side. Without hesitation, she gave him a quick hug. "Thank you, Neville. You're sweet."

"You're welcome," he mumbled. "As your friend, I'm glad that he makes you happy, but…erm… I really would rather not know any details."

The witch laughed and squeezed his arm lightly. "I promise not to give you any."

"Thanks," he smiled.

* * *

As soon as the Defense lesson – worthless as usual – was concluded, Hermione rushed out of the classroom and ignored all of the whispers as she descended into the dungeons. She had decided rather quickly after sitting in her chair to accept Neville's advice, not because being in her husband's presence calmed her down, but because she could, in effect, kill two birds with one stone. It would bolster their appearance as a loving couple, and if she could convince him to stay, she could avoid having to face another meal in the Great Hall so soon after the last disastrous one.

She wondered briefly if she would have a better chance of intercepting him in his classroom or his office, but upon stepping into the corridor she had her answer. A line of grumbling sixth-years was pouring out of the Potions classroom, each of them either scowling in frustration or sighing in relief at being allowed to escape.

Nervously, she ducked into a small alcove so as to not be spotted by them as they passed.

"Merlin," Tandy Knowles groaned to her fellow Ravenclaw partner, Daniel Reid, "I always assumed that if he got laid, he would be nicer."

Daniel shook his head. "You forget that it's Granger he's sleeping with. How decent of a lay can she actually be?"

The pair of Slytherins walking behind them began laughing loudly as one sniped, "How she hasn't suffocated him in his sleep with that hair of hers is a mystery."

"A miracle, rather," the other one added.

Hermione frowned and attempted to flatten her hair as the four continued mouthing their opinions to the amusement of six other students representing each of the Houses. When they were out of sight around the corner, she emerged from her hiding spot and attempted to get a hold of her emotions as she moved toward the Potions classroom. As she stepped through the doorway she nearly collided with Ginny who was clearly trying to get away from Colin Creevey and the two Hufflepuffs with whom he was chatting.

"Oh, Hermione!" she exclaimed in surprise, and then glanced in concern at the girl's face. "Are you okay?"

The older witch nodded and moved out of the way so the rest of the students could leave. "Yeah, I just…erm…needed to –"

"Get in some snuggle time?" the redhead interrupted with a waggle of her eyebrows.

"God, Ginny," she blushed. "Could you not?"

"Sorry," the taller girl shrugged as she took another step toward the hallway. "Snuggle-bear's in the storeroom, though I have to warn you – he's been a bit of a grumpy-gus this morning."

"You do realize that if he hears you, he'll strip Gryffindor of every point it has, right?" Hermione sighed, rubbing her face.

The youngest Weasley laughed as she moved down the corridor and shouted over her shoulder. "Worth it!"

With a shake of her head, the newly married witch closed the door to the empty classroom and dropped wearily into her usual seat. After ascertaining that there was nothing slimy or sticky on the surface of the table in front of her, she folded her arms onto the tabletop and rested her head. She could hear the muffled sounds of glass jars tinkling and quiet mumblings coming from the storeroom, but she really had no desire to see her husband's scowling face until she absolutely had to.

After a few minutes, the creaking of the storeroom door caused her to lift her head enough to peek over her arms.

"Let's just assume the professor is going to be sacked, so we don't have to do a bloody lick of reading," Snape muttered under his breath. "Why take any personal responsibility for your own learning? An absolutely ridiculous notion, obviously."

He paused upon seeing his wife slouched over her usual workstation and folded his arms. "Granger, what are you doing?"

She slowly raised herself into a seated position. "Waiting to eat lunch with my soul mate?"

"What happened to your declaration of never sitting at the Head Table again?"

Hermione grimaced at the memory of enduring Professor Laizment's never-ceasing commentary, and watching Snape suffer through a salty meal had lost its amusement factor rather quickly. "I didn't say I wanted to sit _there_."

The wizard narrowed his eyes. "Why aren't you in the Great Hall with your dunderheaded friends?"

"Because I needed a break!" she sighed, running her hands through her hair. "If I don't take one, I swear that I'm liable to punch Malfoy…_again_!"

Severus groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You do realize what all the little urchins are going to think we're doing, don't you?"

"Having a lunchtime quickie?" she smirked. "Yes, I had realized that, but they'll think that whether we eat in the Great Hall or not."

Nodding slowly, he strode toward the classroom door.

"Where are you going?"

He glanced over his shoulder as he pulled open the door. "You should already know that I have a strict 'no eating' policy in my classroom. The same concept applies to… _quickies_."

Hermione snorted softly, grabbing her bag as she stood from her chair. "Your office, then?"

"Mildly more professional than knobbing one off in the classroom," he sneered as she stepped past him into the corridor. After closing the door, he gestured for her to lead the way, keeping a few paces behind her until he heard giggling voices echoing off the stone walls. He then caught up to her and slipped his hand along the small of her back just in time for Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass to appear from the direction of the Slytherin dormitory.

As their chatter died away and their eyes widened, he fixed them with a challenging glare and then ushered Hermione into his office.

"Well, at least the rumors are going to respect your classroom anti-quickie policy," the witch muttered glumly, dropping into the nearest leather chair.

"For now," Severus grunted as he strode over to his desk and began clearing off a portion of his round desk. He then put in an order with the kitchen before sitting down in his chair. When a plate of food appeared on either side of his desk, he watched as she pulled her chair forward and began eating before he picked up his own fork. Hesitantly, he pushed around a forkful of food as he debated whether or not it was possible that the house-elves could have overheard the breakfast conversation and taken it to heart.

Noticing how cautiously he was approaching his meal, Hermione sheepishly glanced at her own. "I'm sorry that I ruined your breakfast."

He raised one eyebrow at her as he finally risked a bite. When he found it as palatable as he normally did, he gave a quick sigh of relief. "You are only lucky that you did not ruin every other meal as well."

"What?"

He cleared his throat as he loaded up another forkful. "The tables have ears, Granger. The elves take into account any suggestions or complaints regarding their cooking."

"Oh," she mumbled softly and then chanced a small smirk. "I guess that means they must have taken it with a grain of salt?"

Severus glared at her in response, causing her to shrug quickly and shift her attention back to her own food. After a few minutes of tense silence, he eyed her curiously. "I take it from your performance at breakfast that you must have started reading that book the Malfoys sent you."

She shrugged while she chewed her food and waited a few seconds before answering. "I may have skimmed it…and read the introduction."

"Did you not have anything better to do with your time?" he scoffed.

"Not really," she shook her head. "I've had my homework done for weeks, and normally I have rounds and tutoring hours and prefect meetings and scheduling and –"

"I understand, Granger," he interrupted curtly.

Hermione fell silent and slowly nibbled at her meal. A few minutes later she took in a deep breath. "I have a suggestion for the ground rules."

He paused mid-bite and then slowly glanced at her. "Yes?"

"Well, since I have to call you Severus in private, I think it only fair if you call me Hermione."

"Absolutely not," he responded.

She narrowed her eyes and set her fork down. "Why not? What if _you_ slip up in public?"

"That will not happen."

"It could," she argued.

"Granger –"

"Hermione."

Snape sucked in a loud breath and glared at the wall.

The witch pursed her lips and scratched the side of her head. "You know, I wouldn't be so surprised by your saying my name in public if you used it in private."

He rolled his eyes and made a grumbling noise. "Fine. I will take it under consideration."

"Does that mean 'yes'?" she questioned.

"No."

She frowned and tapped her fingertips on the armrest of the chair. "Does that mean 'no'?"

"What it means, Granger," he sneered, "is that I will take it under consideration."

"Hermione," she corrected.


End file.
